


Witness

by skargasm



Series: Witness [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Alternate Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, BAMF Stiles, BDSM Scene, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Character Death, Dom Peter Hale, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Fanart, Full Shift Werewolves, M/M, Murder Husbands, Sub Stiles Stilinski, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:34:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28525548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: Peter Hale is a psychopathic serial killer. But that’s okay because he works for the government, handling the people that normal law enforcement can’t touch.Stiles Stilinski is Peter Hale’s new Witness – the person who sanctions and corroborates Peter’s kills. No one will tell him what happened to Peter’s previous Witness but that doesn’t stop Stiles from trying to find out.When it becomes apparent that Peter’s interest in Stiles may be affecting his ability to do his job, just how do you safely separate a psychopath from his Witness?Based off the premise of the Romilly KingHandledseries, this is a dark fic.
Relationships: Lydia Martin/Theo Raeken, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Witness [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2114259
Comments: 162
Kudos: 381





	1. New Witness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [truefanlove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/truefanlove/gifts), [PinkImpala68](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkImpala68/gifts).



> New year, new WiP!
> 
> I read Romilly King's Handled series and was instantly grabbed by the concept - I highly recommend reading the three books in the series. 
> 
> This is **not** a rewrite - I'm borrowing some of her ideas but that's it. I'm in the mood for writing something dark so this will probably not have much in the way of humour and be a lot less 'fun' than my other stories. Don't worry - I haven't abandoned any of the other ones, it's just that this one pushed its way to the front of the queue.
> 
> Winter has struck, we're in the midst of another 'lock-down', and although vaccines are now available, Covid19 is making sure 2021 isn't the clean slate we were all hoping for! So, I will probably be writing to keep my mind off the madness that is real-life!
> 
> If you're reading this as I write/post, then thank you for taking a chance on another one of my WiPs. I don't think this is going to be a long story and most likely not slow-burn, as well as potentially being a bit bloody! With all of those warnings, if you're here for it, then let's get going!

[ ](https://imgur.com/Qqe6iWV)

“You have to understand, Mr Stilinski, that a wolf effectively abandoned by its pack – especially in such circumstances – well, the effects can be quite traumatising.” 

Stiles nodded to show that he was paying attention to what Professor Valack was saying even though he had read the file – from front to back and over again numerous times.

“We are not quite sure what happened during the initial healing period – Hale was damaged quite badly in the fire that cost him his Pack – but the brain activity was quite astounding.” Valack sounded like he was talking about a particularly nice steak and Stiles had to force his face to remain impassive. “Things settled down and we monitored Hale during the full moons – there were a number of papers published on the findings – but we didn’t expect him to recover. We performed a number of – experiments – during this time, and learned a lot about recuperative powers, bodily structure, etc. It was when members of his family returned to Beacon Hills due to the County insisting that something had to be done with the land – the Preserve has several endangered creatures living on it – that Hale began to come out of his coma.”

“And you discovered his – tendencies?”

“Not straight away. There was a period of rehabilitation – a tentative reconciliation with his family. It was felt that he should remain in Eichen – “

“And his family went along with that?”

“His niece, Laura, agreed that she and her brother Derek didn’t have the facilities in place to look after their uncle properly at that time.” Valack looked slightly disapproving at Stiles’ interruption. “However, Hale’s good health returned in leaps and bounds with his Pack being on the territory again, and it was less than six months before he was released from Eichen House. Shortly after that, the incidents began.”

“And how long did it take before people put things together?” Stiles questioned, almost leaning forward in his eagerness to hear the details.

“It took the Sheriff’s department approximately five months to realise that the victims that were being discovered were all connected to the original Hale fire, but also that they had been part of a conspiracy and cover-up. Unfortunately, by the time they discovered this, Hale had made quite a dent in his personal ‘list’.”

“So why wasn’t he put down?” Stiles asked, seeing from the slight nod that Valack gave that he had used the correct vernacular. He didn’t agree with it – werewolves were evolved humans, not animals and treating them as such didn’t agree with him. However, he had learned during his studies and internship that letting people know his thoughts on that subject did no good. So he toed the line. At least externally.

“Because his actions brought to light the actions of certain members of society that were – unsavoury. It couldn’t be swept under the rug – eight members of the Hale family died in the fire.”

“So, instead you decided to use him,” Stiles stated.

“Indeed. He had nearly finished with his revenge scenario – he was looking for direction. When he was given the option of assisted suicide or working with the department, he made his choice.” Valack fiddled with the pen on his desk for a few moments. “It’s no different from the wet work undertaken by mercenaries to a certain extent – although, not all mercenaries show the same tendencies as Hale.”

“So he’s actually been diagnosed as a psychopath?” Stiles asked.

“Yes – by all human standards anyway. Laura was reluctant to allow testing of either herself or Derek, so we had to use the measuring tools available to us at the time.” Valack folded his hands together. “Which brings us to the matter of him needing a Witness.”

“He was the original test subject for your programme, is that correct?”

“He is indeed. And the Oversight Committee is eager to see how it will work out. The possibility of being able to remove undesirables who have evaded legal retribution whilst keeping the less stable elements of society under watch is something that has caused quite a stir,” Valack replied. “Of course, there are other candidates – Hale is just the first.”

“Are they all werewolves?”

“No – we have a lamprey, a kanima and another chimera, as well as a few humans.”

“And their Witnesses – things are working out well?”

“They are, yes. We gather the evidence, do the initial investigation and then the file is assigned to the appropriate Witness and Handler. Once we are sure that we have the correct culprit, the Witness will sanction the operation and corroborate suitable completion.” Valack smiled. “Of course, a lot of this will have been covered in your courses.”

“Yes, but the classroom doesn’t compare to the real thing,” Stiles said.

“Indeed.”

“What happened to Hale’s original Witness? I tried to find the report but – “

“Brunski was an unfortunate victim of an administrative error,” Valack stated abruptly and Stiles got the feeling that that entire avenue of conversation was firmly closed. “So, you came top in all of your classes and come highly recommended. May I ask what interested you in the Witness Programme in the first instance?”

“My father was a Sheriff in the county where I grew up. Unfortunately, it was before the Witness/Handler Programme was in wider use, and he got caught up in something bigger than he had expected. He was murdered by someone who thought that they were above the law, and they were proven correct. There was no legal way to ensure that justice was served and they got away with it. It made me want to ensure that it didn’t happen to anyone else,” Stiles said, trotting out the acceptable version of his horrific experiences – he had told variations of the same story throughout his time in the training programme, refusing to be drawn into discussing the more harrowing details.

“And your mother? I understand she died when you were young. That must have been difficult for you – to be orphaned,” Valack prodded, an inquisitive light in his eyes that made Stiles feel slightly queasy. It was as if the man was gaining some enjoyment from hearing all of this.

“I was taken in by a family friend. It was a difficult time, obviously, but it served me well – inspired me to want to make a difference,” Stiles said. 

“Very well,” Valack said when it became obvious that Stiles wasn’t going to share any further details. “I think you’ll be a good fit for Hale – just keep your wits about you, make sure you report in at appropriate times. There isn’t a case for you at present, so we’ll arrange an introduction and give you two time to get to know each other – well, as much as you _can_ get to know him. He’s – a rather singular individual, which is quite extraordinary since wolves are pack animals.”

“That sounds great,” Stiles replied, realising that the interview was effectively over. He got to his feet and reached over the desk to shake the Professor’s hand. “Thank you for this opportunity, sir.”

“I think you’ll do well here – I look forward to your reports on Hale.”

“Just one question – does Hale still have family in the area or did they leave again?”

“Do you know, I’m really not sure,” Valack replied but Stiles got the feeling he wasn’t being completely truthful. “You’d have to ask Hale – although his family can be rather a touchy subject as I’m sure you can imagine.”

“Idle curiosity more than anything,” Stiles said. “Thank you again.”

* * *

”Are you going to behave?” Lydia asked, looking at Peter from beneath her lashes. 

“When do I not?” Peter replied, his tone giving away quite clearly that he wasn’t taking her seriously.

“If they can’t find a Witness to work with you, then you’re no use to the Programme,” she stated firmly. “What happened with Brunski – and then Deaton – “

“I worked with Deaton quite satisfactorily for nearly a year,” Peter protested. 

“Until he pissed you off and you maimed him,” Lydia retorted tartly.

“Maimed is such a – strong word,” Peter said, crossing his legs and picking a piece of lint off his trousers.

“Peter – you broke his leg in five places. I think maimed is exactly the right word,” Lydia exclaimed. “He’s lucky to still have any use of it at all and can’t go out in the field any longer.”

“He wasn’t suited for the field anyway,” Peter said, his disinterest in the topic clear. “Deaton and I didn’t understand each other – he seemed to think I should be dispassionate about things when we both know that’s not what this programme is about. If the people you – chose – to be handlers were dispassionate, they wouldn’t be in the programme in the first place.”

“Fine. We need to arrange a time for you to meet your new Witness – sometimes this week would be optimum.”

“Are you feeling the urge to scream, my dear?” Peter asked, his interest peaked.

“Don’t call me my dear – I’ve never been fooled by your civilised exterior, even when I hadn’t been around for clean up after one of your cases.”

“I apologise – sometimes I forget,” Peter said, a laughing undertone to his voice. 

“You never forget anything – but just make sure you remember clearly that neither do I,” she said sternly, giving Peter a hard look. “I know what you’re doing.”

“And what would that be?”

“Professor Valack might think that he has you on a leash, but I know better,” she said and Peter tilted his head in acknowledgement. 

“I have your tracking device in the base of my neck, I report in for all of my assessments on time, I comply with all of your regulations – I really don’t know what else you want me to do,” he said and Lydia gave a frustrated sigh.

“Whatever. His name is Miecyslaw Stilinski but he goes by the name of Stiles. I’ll bring him out to meet you on Friday if that’s acceptable?” 

“Polish name,” Peter mused before nodding his acceptance and getting to his feet. “I assume that that’s all?” 

“Yes – I know how much you dislike being here,” Lydia replied.

“Better here then Eichen House,” Peter replied, moving smoothly towards the door.

“Peter?”

“Yes?”

“I know what you’re up to – I’m nowhere near as blind as you might think. But until you reach the point where you do something irretrievable, I won’t say anything,” Lydia said and Peter arched a brow in surprise. “You wouldn’t have known this but what happened to your family – that was what awakened my powers. I felt what happened so, although I cannot completely understand what you went through, I **do** understand.” For a moment, Peter stood at the door, merely holding the handle, before he nodded once more and left the room. 

It was only after he’d gone that Lydia managed to take a full breath. Her every meeting with Peter was like that – the urge to scream was always in her throat, and the knowledge that someone who represented murder and carnage was sitting opposite her sent all of her powers haywire. She didn’t experience that with any of the other Handlers, nor did she keep a tranquilliser gun pointed at them the entire time that they were there. 

Valack was a fool to think he had Peter under control and Lydia Martin was no fool. She could only hope Stilinski wasn’t one either.

* * *

”He was meant to meet with you at his house but he changed the venue,” Lydia Martin said and Stiles nodded his understanding. It explained why the all-terrain vehicle had pulled up in front of what looked like a burnt-out husk of a house. 

“Is this his courtroom?” he asked, taking in the bleak ruins. It had obviously been a large house – it must have if eight people died in the wreckage and had all lived there – and little had been done to clear the wreckage, or it didn’t appear that way.

“Yes – this is where he generally carries out sentencing unless there’s a specific reason why it has to be off-site. He’ll show you around – it’s nothing like this on the inside,” she replied. Climbing out of the vehicle, Stiles instantly felt as if someone was watching him and he stiffened, looking around. He couldn’t see anyone in the trees so whoever it was must be in the house. 

Despite her high heels, Lydia seemed to have no problems walking towards the house and Stiles followed her, taking in as much of his surroundings as he could. The area was quiet, surrounded by dense foliage and trees, appearing overgrown but in a somehow deliberate way. It was as if the appearance of neglect was a disguise, a falsehood to avoid scrutiny. The steps that led up to the front door looked decrepit but made no sound as the two of them walked up them, and the door was solid with what looked like at least three locks on it. Before Lydia could knock, the door opened and he came face-to-face with Peter Hale. 

The werewolf was only slightly taller than Stiles but gave the impression of being bigger: his body was firmly muscled, his chest broad, his neck thick. His face was arresting: intelligent blue eyes took in everything about Stiles in a matter of moments, a neatly trimmed goatee around firm lips – he had an almost patrician look to him. 

“Welcome to my killing space – do come in.”


	2. Agendas

[ ](https://imgur.com/D85q95j)

He smelled delicious. 

Peter’s killing space was special to him but it was a necessity that the Witness be familiar with how the killing space worked. Their job was to sit and watch sentence being passed, and as such, they needed to be aware of the space and how things within it worked. They needed to know where the security buttons were – if something went wrong, it was their only safety. But it was difficult to have someone else in his space like this – well, normally.

Brunski had been an unwelcome intrusion and had never respected the space or the sanctity of it as a court-room. Deaton had shown some respect but had ultimately not ‘fit’. But having this Stiles here felt strangely right. 

“You need to leave,” Peter stated to Lydia, uncaring how blunt he sounded. 

“Peter – “

“No, it’s fine. I have to be alone with him sometime, right?” Stiles replied and he went up in Peter’s estimation. He wasn’t trying to hide behind Lydia. 

“I can wait in the car,” Lydia accepted, giving Peter a hard look. “You need to behave,” she warned.

“I always behave – just not always the way you want me to,” Peter replied, watching as she left the room, leaving him alone with Stiles. “Are you afraid?”

“Should I be?”

“Well, you have been left alone with a known serial killer in his very own killing space. I would imagine that would do a slight job on your psyche,” Peter replied, stepping a little closer to Stiles. He listened intently to his heartbeat – a slight stutter interrupting the regular rhythm; the elevated breathing. Yet, apart from that, Stiles appeared – sanguine. 

“It’s not like I didn’t expect it. After all, isn’t this the point? To find out whether we can work together or if you’re going to try to kill me?”

“ _Try_?” Peter repeated, almost tasting the word. “What makes you think I wouldn’t succeed?”

“I have no plans to make it easy for you to get rid of me – whether it be by you being difficult or attempting to kill me. Besides, they told me that you are a killer with a mission – since I don’t fit the MO of the people you handle, I should be relatively safe – for now,” Stiles replied, turning as Peter began to circle him. Sensible to not let Peter be at his back – those who made that mistake seldom lived to make another one.

“You could be interesting – more interesting than the people they normally let me meet,” Peter finally said.

“I’m glad to hear it – I would hate for you to find me boring,” Stiles replied. “Are you going to show me around or do I just wander aimlessly?”

“I’ll show you,” Peter said. He led Stiles through what had once been his family’s lounge area towards the back of the house. The damage here had been extensive, but Peter had arranged for it to be cleared out, the structure made sound, and the interior gutted and remade the way he wanted it. Now it looked like a medical cell – pristine white walls, surgical steel trolley in the middle of the room with high-grade restraints, instruments and tools laid out with precision. If need be, he could hold a werewolf captive for as long as he wanted to at the flick of a switch. Various generators ensured that he never ran out of power, and the shelves and cupboards that lined the perimeter of the room held all of the equipment he could possibly need.

“This is impressive. Do you use all of it or is it merely for intimidation purposes?” Stiles said, wandering around the room but making sure not to touch anything. Peter appreciated his restraint – Brunski had thought he had the right to rummage through the cupboards and examine Peter’s tools – he had learnt the error of his ways. 

“Some of it is for intimidation purposes – why use blades when I have claws,” Peter replied, the snick sound of his claws coming out loud in the quiet room. Stiles turned to look at him, taking in the deadly weapons attached to Peter’s hands. 

“You can put the murder mittens away – I have been around a werewolf before,” Stiles said, coming to a halt with the stainless steel trolley between them. “I can tell how much control you have over that aspect of your nature, and I thought we had got past the whole intimidation portion of the interview.”

“You think this is an interview?” Peter retracted his claws, amused at the lack of reaction.

“I think that if you’re unwilling to work with me, Ms Martin will see me reassigned before the end of the day,” Stiles replied, his expression difficult to read.

“Do you want the assignment? Of working with me?” Peter asked, the answer important to him in a way he wasn’t ready to examine.

“Yes, I think I do. I think our agendas could – _align_ nicely,” Stiles replied, holding Peter’s gaze.

“You have an agenda of your own?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“Answering a question with a question could very quickly become quite irritating,” Peter said, allowing just a hint of fang to show. “I don’t like the idea of you trying to hide something from me. I would very much like it if I could figure out what’s going on in your head.”

“Agree to work with me and I’m sure that could be arranged,” Stiles stated firmly. 

“Very well – I’ll work with you,” Peter decided rapidly, stepping back from the door and allowing Stiles to precede him. “I would prefer that you not come here without me. This is **my** space and I am not known for sharing well,” he continued.

“Fair enough,” Stiles replied, finally turning his back on Peter and walking out of the room. “I’ll let you know when we have a case.”

“You do that,” Peter said, watching as Stiles left the building and headed towards the vehicle. There was no hint of fear or concern – the young man had acted as though Peter was like everyone else. It was – interesting and he resolved to find out as much as he could about Stiles Stilinski as possible.

* * *

”I’m surprised you made it out of there in one piece,” Lydia said, looking out of the car window as the driver began the journey back to the main area of town.

“Nice to know you were prepared to sacrifice me,” Stiles replied. The meeting with Peter had been intense but he felt that generally, it had gone well. “What would you have done if he had killed me?”

“I would have regretted your loss – you could be quite the asset,” Lydia replied, glancing at Stiles.

“Thanks – I think!”

“You learn very quickly in this job not to get attached to people – you never quite know how long they’re going to be around. Some get burned out quickly, some don’t survive being a Witness, others are found to be unsuitable,” she continued. “I have high hopes that you and Peter will make an excellent match.”

“Who was handling him before I arrived? I know that Deaton has only just returned from medical leave and there must have been at least one case during his absence,” Stiles queried.

“I was the Witness for Peter’s last kill – a corrupt politician who was involved with human trafficking,” Lydia continued. “It was all rather harrowing but Peter handled it, and the agency were able to provide law enforcement with information that will hopefully shut down the whole operation.”

“If it went so well, why haven’t you continued as Peter’s Witness?” 

“Because my powers don’t mesh with his. There is a – chaos – around Peter that interfered with my Banshee powers – it also meant that Peter wasn’t working at optimum level. It was decided that we were better off working in a more – distant capacity,” Lydia replied honestly. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You can ask – no promises about answering though,” Stiles replied.

“What really happened with your father?” Stiles could feel his facial expression freeze at the surprise question and brushed his hair out of his face to give himself time to attempt to regain his composure. 

“Exactly as it says in my file. He was investigating an incident and came up against something bigger than he could have expected. He was viewed as collateral damage in the larger picture – thank you for your service, have a gold watch to remember him by,” he finally replied slightly bitterly. 

Lydia nodded, then said, “What was the case he was investigating?”

“He was investigating Christopher Argent and claims that he was capturing and torturing supernaturals,” Stiles stated. “Of course, it turned out to be more than Christopher – his family did what they had to do to ensure that a small-town Sheriff didn’t make things too difficult for them.”

“Your father was involved in the Argent investigation? Stiles – I wish you had told us this before – “

“It makes no difference. I have several years worth of therapy and distance from the situation and obviously my assessors didn’t think it was an issue,” Stiles said firmly. “Why?”

“You know Peter’s relationship with the Argents?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Is there something I should know?” Stiles waited to see if she would crack, talk about the situation that had led them to find Peter Hale in the first place. 

“No – there’s nothing,” Lydia finally said but her unease was plain. “I don’t think you should share that with Peter. He can be – affected adversely by personal information.”

“I thought he and I were meant to bond. Surely the loss of family would be a bonding experience,” Stiles asked.

“What Professor Valack may have neglected to tell you is that Peter is – teetering. The loss of a Witness that he could truly bond with, no real family to ground him – “

“Are you saying he’s lacking an anchor?” Stiles was shocked by her break in the protocol – he hadn’t expected to get such information so easily. 

“Peter is a special case when it comes to our Handlers. We learned a lot from him in the early days – about what people with his tendencies needed. A direction, someone who understood him – like a – “

“Like a kanima needs a master,” Stiles mused.

“Almost. Look, Stiles – “

“Let’s just wait and see what happens if we get a case, shall we? You don’t have anyone else suitable for Hale – why not give  
me a try?” He could tell by Lydia’s expression that she wasn’t convinced but he also knew that she had little to no other options. 

“Very well – we’ll see what happens when you two get a case,” she stated and Stiles smiled internally.

* * *

It was less than a week later that Stiles was called into the office because there was a potential case for he and Peter to handle. Whilst waiting outside Valack’s office to be seen, he finally saw another of the Witness and Handler partnerships.

“You don’t get to make those kinds of decisions for me.” A beautiful young man came out of Valack’s office, dressed in designer gear and strutting confidently across the waiting room that Stiles’ occupied. 

“Jackson – “

“It was a sanctioned kill – how it was completed should not be an issue for discussion,” Jackson continued. “If you can’t understand that, then maybe you shouldn’t be my Witness any longer.”

“That’s unfair and you know it! Stop being an asshole!” The Witness trailed behind Jackson, coming to a halt when he did. “I’m just concerned that it was a little close to home. Child endangerment is a difficult area for you – “

“Child endangerment? The kid was living off the trash! Hidden away simply because he was illegitimate! I think I was quite restrained in the circumstances!” Jackson was almost hissing, his eyes glowing yellow and Stiles realised that this must be the kanima that Valack had mentioned in the initial interview. 

“Jackson – you tore the man’s head off! You know – “

“Isaac! If you can’t support me as my Witness, then maybe I should reconsider Theo’s offer!” Isaac reared back, a look of hurt crossing his face before he quickly his expression.

“Obviously if you would prefer to work with Theo – “

“Mr Stilinski – thank you for being on time. Come on through,” Valack said from his doorway. “Jackson, Isaac – I don’t think this is quite the place for such a discussion. Perhaps you two do need to spend some time at Eichen working on your partnership if you can’t come to some sort of agreement without intervention.” It sounded vaguely threatening and Stiles watched as the two men took in what Valack was saying. 

“No, of course not,” Jackson finally spoke, swallowing his anger with difficulty, his eyes now a striking but human blue. 

“Excellent. We wouldn’t want one of our best teams unavailable. That would be – unfortunate,” Valack continued, and Isaac and Jackson both nodded before leaving the waiting room. “I do apologise for that – a difference of opinion in how sentence was carried out, nothing more. Do come in.”

Stiles followed Valack into his office, taking the seat he had used previously. An open file on Valack’s desk caught his attention, what looked like crime scene photographs in plain view. Valack walked around and took a seat, gathering the paperwork together into the file before handing it over to Stiles. 

“This could be an interesting initial case for you and Hale – have a look,” Valack said, folding his hands together. Stiles flipped the pages of the report, reading the case summary helpfully placed at the front. 

“The Calaveras are hunters?”

“They are, yes.”

“Why are they operating here? It says they are based in Mexico,” Stiles asked.

“Allegedly they are chasing La Loba and have tracked her to our area. But in the meantime, they are proving to be – less than circumspect in their behaviour as they have travelled.” Stiles flicked through some of the pictures, seeing images of creatures that appeared to have suffered before dying. “They have made too much noise and need to be taken out. And, of course, hunters come under Hale’s remit.”

“Is this already sanctioned?”

“On a surface level – we need you to corroborate what’s in that report and see if you can corral Hale into handling things with a modicum of secrecy – the Calaveras are well known and we don’t want a massacre.”

“If you don’t want a massacre, how are we meant to handle this?”

“It should be simple – cut the head off the snake and the body will die. Araya being handled should be enough to send them back to their own territory,” Valack said and Stiles nodded his understanding. If the head of a hunter family was removed, there would be enough in-fighting to ensure that they wouldn’t be a bother for a time.

“I’ll get in touch with Hale – arrange a meeting,” Stiles said and Valack smiled.

“Excellent. I look forward to finding out how well you work together,” he said, before making a shoo-ing gesture. “Now if you’ll excuse me – “

Stiles got to his feet and left, the folder of paperwork in his hands. As he left the building, he found himself strangely excited – he was looking forward to working this case with Peter Hale if only to spend more time with the man. And of course, see him working in his ‘court-room’ – that would be the ultimate test of his resolve. If he could act as Witness for this, he would be one step closer to his ultimate goal.

* * *


	3. Working Together

[ ](https://imgur.com/v1r5btV)

“Stiles?”

He turned to see Lydia walking towards him, a frown on her face. “What’s up?”

“Is that the Calaveras case?”

“Yeah – Professor Valack just gave it to me. I was going to see Peter – see if we can figure out how to work together.” She nodded, biting her lip. “Why don’t you just spit it out?”

“After a sentencing, Peter can be – difficult,” she finally said.

“More difficult than he’s presented already?” Stiles asked, folding his arms over his chest.

“No. Just – it tends to arouse the animal sides of his personality – he can need – bringing down,” she said. Stiles tilted his head in thought, trying to read through the lines. “Oh for goodness sake, sometimes a kill gets him aroused and he needs someone. We have a file of sex workers who know what he needs and can deal with it. You’ll be provided with contact details once you sanction the case.”

Stiles could feel his eyebrows rising towards his hairline, but realised it made sense. 

“Yeah, I can see that. Does he have – singular – needs or are they pretty bog-standard?”

“He’ll let you know what he needs. I just wanted you to be prepared – it’s not something that’s talked about in the seminars, but a kill often brings on – “

“A case of the major horn?” Stiles interrupted, smirking. 

“God, you and him are so well suited, I don’t know why I’ve bothered to warn you. Just – make sure you keep those contact numbers on you and be prepared to collect the worker afterwards. Hospital treatment hasn’t been necessary but they tend to be exhausted and need to be seen safely back to base,” Lydia stated, before flipping her hair and turning away from him. 

“Exhausted?” Stiles couldn’t prevent himself from asking.

“Peter is a wolf – an apex predator and animal. From the reports I’ve managed to read, there’s an intense need to claim after a kill and although he hasn’t formed any attachments, it can take some time to sate that need,” she replied coolly. “If you’re a good boy, one of these days I’ll let you read what one of the workers reported back to us.”

* * *

“A case so soon? How delicious.” Peter’s greeting was almost salacious and Stiles hid a smile. The wolf lived away from the main part of Beacon Hills on the edge of the Preserve. The house wasn’t anything special from the outside but Stiles got the impression that Peter liked surprising people – give them an external view that let them form opinions then slice and dice them with the truth at the optimum time. He couldn’t argue with it – he presented himself very much the same way.

“Yes, so put some clothes on and let’s see if we can work this together,” he replied, gesturing at Peter’s lack of clothing. He was dressed for working out, sweat sheening his skin, the muscled chest on full display. Stiles didn’t believe the image for a moment – Peter might have been working out but the whole sexy, sweaty man thing he had going on was definitely intended to throw Stiles off his game. It was a good gambit – he was in incredibly shape, the velvety softness of skin over muscle was enticing. “It’s right up your alley – naughty hunters.”

“Oh really?” Instantly Peter threw off the fake persona, reaching for the file Stiles held in his hand. “Come on in,” he said absently, already flicking through the pages. With a smirk, Stiles shut the door and followed the man as he led the way through a bland, innocuous looking hallway. The lounge was definitely more Peter – huge leather sofas, plush cushions and throws everywhere. If Stiles had to describe it, he would have said it was the perfect den for a wolf. 

They continued through the lounge into the study, and Stiles was pleased to see a cork-board with push pins already set up along one wall. With no preamble, he grabbed his balls of string from his messenger bag and moved towards the wall. 

“That’s your copy – I’m just gonna set up mine,” he said to Peter who nodded absently, still reading. Giving the other man time to read through and make his own initial conclusions, Stiles began setting up his ‘murder’ board. The case was interesting, if only because it was so unusual for hunters to leave their own territory. Admittedly, since Christopher and Gerard Argent had been disposed of, there had been no hunters in place in Beacon Hills, but it was a bold move by the Calaveras to essentially invade the area. 

With Araya at the head of the board, Stiles wrote up all of the information he had on her sons and her organisation, how she ran the family, the companies they were involved. By the time he had finished, Peter was leaning against the desk, watching him work. 

“Good – this is clear, I like it. Serbero is dead – killed in Mexico last year,” Peter said absently, walking closer to the board and pointing to one of Araya’s sons.

“And you know this how?”

“Now, Stiles, where would the fun be if I told you **all** of my secrets straight away?” Peter said, smirking. “These are the murders they’re accused of?” he asked, pointing at a different area of the board.

“Yes. Apparently they’re hunting someone called La Loba and have cut a swathe through the supernatural community in their chase. A family of peaceful werewolves, a few chimeras – a particularly nasty and very public execution of a Wendigo just a couple of counties over.” Stiles stood next to Peter, tapping his lips. “They seem to be getting less and less discreet.”

“Indeed. La Loba?” Peter questioned, turning to look at Stiles.

“Not a lot known about her according to the reports. Messed about with berserkers in Mexico but fucked up; cutting her own murderous swathe through the supernaturals but no real motive can be established. Why – I didn’t think you took part in supernatural hunts?”

“No real reason,” Peter replied, not looking Stiles in the eye. “And I have been known to take care of supernatural issues – it was my position in the Pack after all.”

It was the first time Peter had mentioned his Pack – the first time they had really had a conversation, and Stiles tried not to look too eager. 

“You were the Hale Left Hand?”

“I was, yes. And rather good, actually, if I do say so myself,” Peter replied. “Of course, that didn’t prevent the slaughter of my Pack but the people involved had some inside help,” he said somewhat bitterly.

“Inside help?” Stiles asked, his curiosity aroused. 

“Surgical strike or complete decimation?” Peter said, his voice hard.

“What?”

“What’s Valack looking for this time? Does he want me to just take out Araya or the whole family?”

“Could you do that? Take out the whole family?” Stiles asked, fascinated by Peter’s casual confidence. 

“You’ve really had nothing to do with a real Left Hand have you? You are such a baby-Witness – it fascinates me that they think we would be a good match,” Peter said, turning his full attention onto Stiles. “You look so young but you can’t be less than 24 if you’ve gone through the Witness Training Programme. I wonder – do you project this innocent exterior for a reason?”

Slightly uncomfortable under the wolf’s scrutiny, Stiles looked down at what was left of the file in his hands.

“It’s a ruse – I can tell that much. What I haven’t been able to figure out as yet is what’s beneath your little disguise? Are you a wolf under there, Stiles?” Peter’s voice was silky smooth and Stiles realised he had moved closer to him, their bodies touching. 

“I think I’d remember being bitten by a wolf, thanks,” Stiles said flippantly, turning and walking away from Peter. He gasped when the man appeared in front of him, blocking the exit to the room. 

“I don’t like being played for a fool – Lydia will have told you that,” Peter stated, hovering in a slightly menacing fashion.

“I’m not playing you for a fool. But you can’t expect **me** to share all of my secrets with you immediately,” Stiles replied, suddenly extremely aware that he was in a room with a predator, one who could slice him to pieces in less time than it would take for a rescue team to reach him. That was if he could even call in the need for rescue. Taking a deep breath, he looked up until he was staring directly into Peter’s eyes, flinching only slightly at the electric blue glow. “I’m not working against you – I swear.” 

By the tilt of Peter’s head, he was listening to Stiles’ heart, trying to tell if he was lying. Taking a risk, Stiles took Peter’s hand and placed it against his chest, right over his heart.

“The only secrets I’m keeping won’t work against you – in fact, it might be the case that what you ultimately want meshes neatly with my own desires,” he said clearly. Peter nodded, stepping back and Stiles could breathe again.

“How do you know of what I ultimately want?”

“I did my research on you, Peter Hale,” was the only reply Stiles gave and Peter gave him a hard look. “Now – how do you want to go about handling this one? Because Valack has already sanctioned it and just looking through this evidence, I’m more than comfortable signing off on it.”

Peter accepted the change of subject, turning back to the murder board. 

“Satomi Ito owes me a favour and will be very interested in hunters invading the territory. Perhaps it’s time to ask her how she would feel about a couple of her pack members acting as bait,” Peter said. 

“Will it be safe for them?” Stiles asked and Peter gave a slight chuckle. 

“Not in the slightest, which is why Satomi will choose a couple of troublemakers that she can do without,” Peter said. “Let me get dressed and we’ll go and visit Satomi.”

Peter left Stiles in the study without another word and he sank onto the desk, breathing hard. He had not expected things to move so fast and to know that La Loba was in the vicinity meant he might have to expedite his plans. Which involved him trusting Peter. 

It felt too soon, but then he hadn’t got where he was by not being able to adapt. This meeting with another Pack might just be his opportunity to get Peter to trust him – that and the Handling of Araya Calaveras. He could do this.

* * *

Peter stood outside the office door, listening to the movements in the study. It was interesting that Stiles had stood up to him when Peter had tried to menace him – even more interesting that he had allowed Peter to monitor his heart while he spoke. There was definitely something else going on other than being a Witness, but Peter’s investigations into Stiles had reached a slight hiccup. A lot of what Peter thought might be pertinent information was sealed as Stiles had been a minor – his informant was going to have to dig a little deeper. 

In the meantime, it would be quite revealing how Stiles acted around a wolf pack. Despite his youthful and almost innocent persona, there was something almost feral about the man that interested Peter quite deeply.

* * *


	4. A little history...

[ ](https://imgur.com/Xr9aLft)

Apart from a small gasp of appreciation upon seeing Peter’s car, Stiles remained quiet on their trip to Satomi’s pack. Peter appreciated it – his mind was busy making plans for handling Araya Calaveras. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t already thought about dealing with her – part of his duties as Left Hand had been to be aware of all of the potential threats to the Pack and the Calaveras were a threat to _any_ werewolf pack. Their family code appeared to be that the only good supernatural was a dead supernatural, and Peter had viewed them with extreme prejudice for quite some time. 

Being given the sanction to handle them was a gift – even if it was just Araya rather than wiping the whole family from the face of the earth.

He wasn’t used to being comfortable in someone else’s company, especially after such a short space of time. A glance at Stiles showed him deep in thought and Peter wondered what he was thinking about. That in itself was a shock – he normally had zero patience for other people being in his space, and he certainly gave less than two fucks what they were thinking about. 

Peter pulled to a smooth halt into a parking space in front of Satomi’s main house, aware that they were being watched as they climbed out of the car. 

“STILES!” A lanky, brown-skinned youth threw himself at Stiles, wrapping him in a hard hug. Peter stared, momentarily distracted before Satomi appeared in front of him and he got himself under control. 

“Alpha Ito – thank you so much for seeing me on such short notice,” he said formally, bowing his head in acknowledgement of her higher position.

“Peter Hale – you are welcome to my territory. I was not aware that you knew Stiles,” she said, gesturing towards the duo behind them. She turned and headed towards the house and Peter followed reluctantly, more interested in observing Stiles and the teenage boy. 

“It is a recent thing. I was not aware of his connection to your Pack,” he replied, hoping she would provide more information.

“Oh yes – we have known Stiles for a number of years now! We were fortunate to be recommended to him when he needed a pack for his young friend, Scott,” she said. 

“Scott?”

“The young man hanging all over Stiles at present! I have tried to teach him about the etiquette behind scenting people but he does get over-excited when Stiles visits him,” she said, looking ruefully towards where the teenage boy in question was hanging all over Stiles. “He was bitten at such a young age – his mother was killed in the attack. Stiles became his anchor for some time which is why I make allowances,” she continued.

“I see,” Peter replied, although Satomi’s words awoke more questions than she answered. “And Stiles – “

“Was not there when the attack happened. I am beginning to feel that you are pumping me for information. Perhaps you should be asking Stiles all of this?” Satomi said, giving Peter a dark look. “Surely this is not what you came to see me for?”

“No – no, it’s not. I apologise for any impropriety – I will ask Stiles my questions regarding that issue. No, I wanted to speak to you about the Calaveras clan – “

* * *

“Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in ages!” Scott complained, hugging Stiles tightly enough to make it difficult to breathe. 

“Wolfy strength there, Scotty – still human!” he gasped out, taking an exaggerated breath when the youth obediently loosened his hold. “Let’s have a look at you then – my God, you’re growing like a weed!” he exclaimed.

“I’m as tall as you now,” Scott said, grabbing Stiles’ hand and dragging him towards the house. “Satomi keeps saying I’m eating her out of house and home!”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t surprise me,” Stiles replied, taking a quick look at Peter. He could see the wolf was watching him whilst talking to Satomi and wondered what his thoughts were. Stiles _could_ have told him about his dealings with Satomi but there was a mild satisfaction in seeing the surprise on the other man’s face, even if only briefly. “How’s the werewolf training going? Got your whole grrr argh thing under control yet?”

“Ugh, don’t call it that! And yes, my control is much better!” Scott continued babbling as he led Stiles into the house, ignoring Peter and Satomi who were talking on the porch. Stiles could feel Peter’s regard and only half-listened to Scott’s chatter, trying to figure out where Peter and Satomi had gone. “Hey, buddy, I’m actually here on official business. Can you direct me to Satomi’s office please?”

“Sorry, yes of course! Satomi keeps telling me I need to be more aware of proprieties! Do you want anything? Refreshments or – “

“No, just lead me to where she is please.” He followed Scott to the study, smiling at the young man in thanks. He knocked and waited for an acknowledgement before entering the room. Satomi and Peter were stood at a desk, looking over what appeared to be a large map. “Sorry for the delay – Scott wanted to catch up. Alpha Satomi – it is a pleasure to be in your presence,” he said as he closed the door behind him.

“Stiles – it is always a pleasure to see you,” Satomi replied. “Come and give your viewpoint on what Peter and I have been discussing – then you can fill me in on why we haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Studying mainly,” he replied as he moved towards them. The map they were looking at appeared to be between this county and Beacon Hills, with red crosses and yellow tacks in different places. “Hunter traps?”

“All of the known ones. The red crosses show where the most dangerous ones are – and of course, we attempt to keep track of any updates,” Satomi said.

“Has Peter apprised you of the situation?” 

“He has, indeed. And I am pleased that the Calaveras are finally to be dealt with. They have been allowed free reign for far too long,” Satomi said with a scowl. 

“How far have you got in the planning stages?”

“Are you referring to our sacrificial lambs?” Peter asked and Satomi smiled. 

“Do not worry, Stiles, I am well aware that whoever I send may incur some injuries. And, as Alpha, I admit that normally that would cause me to think very hard about whether or not this is a good plan.” Satomi sat down behind the desk, giving Stiles a better view of the map. “However, the timing is excellent – there are two members of my Pack who have been – _troublesome_ shall we say. They need to learn to work together and a situation like this would be ideal.”

“As long as they know what they’re getting into,” Stiles replied, wanting to be sure. He had researched Satomi before placing Scott in her care and she had a reputation for being ruthless but fair. 

“Oh they will, believe me,” she said, turning to Peter. “When do you want to go ahead?”

“As soon as possible. I don’t want them to have time to begin planning another hunt if it can be avoided – I would like to take Araya down,” Peter said, moving to stand next to Stiles. “Tomorrow?”

“So soon?” Stiles said, slightly surprised. 

“Why – is there a reason we should delay? You have corroborated and sanctioned – why should we wait?” Peter growled, somehow feeling like he was menacingly hovering over Stiles. Part of him wanted to shrink away, make himself smaller so that Peter wouldn’t notice him, but another part of him was bullish and stubborn and refused to be intimidated. Stiles squared his shoulders and faced Peter head-on, looking into his eyes.

“I merely wanted to be sure that you would be ready – I was a little concerned that you might be a little rusty,” Stiles taunted slightly, gasping when Peter leaned just a little closer. 

“Oh I think I’m ready for this,” Peter said, his eyes flashing blue briefly before he turned his gaze to Satomi. “My sources tell me that Araya will be returning to her place of residence at approximately seven in the evening – if your misbehaving pups can be in place?”

“We will be there. I wish you good hunting, Peter Hale. And Stiles – perhaps try _not_ to wave a red flag in front of a bull quite so blatantly. I have no desire to witness your demise – or whatever else might happen to you once the bull has caught you,” Satomi said with a smile, waving towards the door. “I have much to plan – we will have to arrange a more pleasant meeting some time in the future.”

Knowing that they had been dismissed, Stiles deliberately turned his back on Peter and headed for the door. A glance over his shoulder and he saw that Peter was smirking, his gaze on Stiles’ ass. It did indeed feel like waving a flag in a bull’s face – Peter made him feel like the best kind of prey and Stiles wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

* * *

”You are already acquainted with Satomi,” Peter stated as they drove away.

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t think it was worth mentioning that?”

“To be fair, Peter, you didn’t ask,” Stiles replied with an aggravating smile.

“And your friend – Scott – what happened?”

“Are we sharing life stories? I didn’t think you were interested in me as anything other than a Witness. Would you like me to tell you about my childhood?” 

“Only if it’s relevant,” Peter replied, glancing at Stiles. “Why don’t you want to tell me?”

“How about a little quid pro quo – I tell you something, you tell me something,” Stiles replied and Peter nodded. 

“Very well. What would you like to know?”

“I’m happy to go first – a show of good faith if you like,” Stiles said. “No doubt you’ve read my file so you know that my mother died when I was young. My father was the local Sheriff – a good man, but a busy one. I was a – wild child. Got into all sorts of things that were none of my business.”

“Like?”

“I used to get into his files and read through them, try to figure out culprits, leave him notes, that kind of thing,” Stiles said, a sad smile on his face. “He used to tell me I should keep my nose out of it, but then sometimes he would act on the notes I left him. He said I had the ability to see things from a perspective that he couldn’t and it often led him to helpful conclusions.”

“You blame yourself for his death,” Peter surmised, seeing an expression of pain cross Stiles’ face fleetingly. 

“No – well, yes, but no. I was fascinated by one particular case because it seemed so clear to me what had happened and yet nothing was done about it,” Stiles continued. “An entire family died in a fire and it was marked as an accident.”

Peter flinched as he realised Stiles was talking about his family.

“It seemed strange to me that none of them tried to escape – supers nor humans – what would prevent that?” Stiles continued, his voice becoming hard. “Six years after it happened, there was an update in the file. An independent report showed that mountain ash had been used to surround the house, preventing the supers from leaving. And the humans – at least two of them had been shot as they tried to escape. It answered that puzzle for me – told me that it was hunters. But it didn’t make sense – none of the people who died had done anything to deserve being hunted. The Alpha was respected, kept her people in line, looked after the town.”

“Stiles – “ Peter growled, but the man continued speaking as if he hadn’t heard him.

“Then I put a few bits of the puzzle together – the name of the hunters for one. A very influential family by all accounts. Not quite above the law, but able to get away with more than they should. The leader of the clan was a xenophobe and had taught his children to think the same. He clashed with the Alpha in question – lost to her quite dramatically regarding legislation he wanted brought in. Waited a little while and then sent his children to do his dirty work for him.”

“Stiles – “

“I made my little notes – wrote out what I thought had happened – and my Dad must have read them and seen something that he could use. By the time he got involved, the patriarch of the family had been – dealt with – but the son and daughter remained at large. The son had influence – maybe he was meant to take over from his father – and made arrangements for my father to be taken out of contention. Permanent arrangements – unfortunately, that left me an orphan, blaming myself for pointing my Dad at people who had no compunction in doing whatever they wanted and who could get away with it.”

“Your father was – “

“Noah Stilinski, although you won’t find his name on any of the paperwork. He was doing all of this behind the scenes, pushed by his nosy son into getting into something too big for him to handle alone. The daughter disappeared and the son was one of the first people Handled officially by the programme.”

Peter drove in silence for a while, taking in everything Stiles had said. Their pasts were entangled and he was stunned by what Stiles had revealed. 

“What happened to you?”

“I was sent to live with a family friend – Melissa McCall and her young son, Scott.” Stiles sighed. “I was relatively happy there – Melissa pretty much left me alone as she worked as a nurse and was trying to bring up her son single-handedly after his father deserted them. What had happened to my father made me determined to be part of justice – the Witness/Handler programme needed to be bigger and better so that no one else had to lose their family to people who wouldn’t face the consequences of their actions. I took all the classes I needed to get into the Witness Programme – excelled at them – and was on track to be where I wanted to be. And then the McCalls were attacked.”

“Do you know by whom?”

“An alpha by the name of Ennis decided that he wanted to grow his pack. Allegedly, there were tales of creating new betas and then killing them in order to gain power – Ennis was _very_ attracted to power. He’d already gone through his original pack and needed more ‘fuel’ – he happened to be in Cannock County and saw a young boy who looked malleable. He didn’t want someone who would fight him, you see. He attacked the boy, killing his mother in the process. He was interrupted and ran away, leaving the boy without an alpha.”

“What happened to the boy? And to Ennis?” Stiles shook himself, seeming to realise how much he had revealed.

“I’d been away studying when I got the call. I got back and discovered that Scott had been changed and was being taken away – they decided that institutionalising him was for the best since he wasn’t stable without an alpha. I managed to convince them that I would arrange for Scott to receive a suitable mentor which is how I came to meet Satomi. Completed my studies and became a Witness and here I am!” He turned to Peter. “So there you have it – my life story in less time than it took to drive from Cannock County to Beacon Hills.”

“That was quite a story – although there are a number of loose ends,” Peter said, pulling into the parking area of his residence. 

“Are there?” Stiles asked, gathering his belongings together.

“Just a few – like the alpha, Ennis and the daughter. I wonder what happened to them?” Peter mused, watching Stiles carefully.

“I do believe it’s your turn to tell a story. But it will have to wait – I need to go home and get ready for tomorrow. My very first Witness Event – I want to ensure that I’m fully prepared.” Before Peter could say anything, Stiles had climbed out of the car and strode across the car lot to where he had parked his Jeep. With what looked like a cheery wave, he drove out of the lot and Peter sat and considered everything he had learned about his new Witness.

* * *


	5. A Past Perspective

[ ](https://imgur.com/0JaOid5)

It was only a little lie that he had things to do before he was prepared to be a Witness the next day. Whilst they had been at Satomi’s, a message had come through with some information he had been searching for and he wanted to strike whilst the iron was hot. 

Driving to the address given in the message, Stiles tried not to think about the conversation with Peter. He had revealed more than he had intended – there was something about the way Peter gave him all of his attention even whilst driving that had made him be more honest than intended. He needed to ward against that. 

Parked outside a nice, quiet house in the suburbs, he watched and waited, coming to attention when a nice black Camaro pulled into the driveway. The driver climbed out of the vehicle, dressed in sports gear and headed towards the front door. Getting out of the Jeep, Stiles strode after the man.

“Hi – are you Derek Hale?” The man turned around, his expression wary, his body language almost threatened.

“Who’s asking?” he said, standing in front of the door, holding his sports bag in front of him like a shield.

“My name is Stiles Stilinski – you don’t know me. I’m your uncle’s new Witness.” Derek reacted as if he’d been shot, his body jerking and his face paled. 

“I guess you better come in,” he said finally, opening the front door and stepping inside. Stiles followed him inside, closing the door behind him. Derek dumped his kit bag and baseball cap onto a small table before leading Stiles through the dark hallway into a small but comfortable living room. 

“You don’t seem surprised to see me,” Stiles noted, taking a seat. 

“If you’re Peter’s new Witness, no it’s not exactly a surprise. Although you’re the first one who’s tracked me down, I thought it would happen one of these days,” Derek replied, slumping into an armchair. “I can guess why you’re here but why don’t you tell me anyway.”

“I want to know about what happened – with the fire, why you left Peter behind, how he became how he is. If I’m to work with him, I’d like to know if there are triggers I can avoid and the psych evaluations from Eichen House only tell me so much,” Stiles replied. “From what I’ve gathered together, he was just 25 when the fire happened and previous to that, he hadn’t registered on anyone’s radar. What happened?”

Derek sighed and put his head into his hands, looking tortured.

“I did – well, something I did caused the fire and sent him spiralling. And previous to the fire, we didn’t keep him under wraps so much as – make use of his particular talents.”

“What does that mean?”

“He was the Left Hand – it takes a certain mind-set to be able to perform that role. You have to be prepared to do whatever the Alpha can’t – rid the territory of intruders, dig out information to use against people, act as an assassin,” Derek said. “Uncle Peter was suited to the role – probably too well suited but my Mother, the Alpha, didn’t seem to notice that. As long as Peter did what he needed to do to keep the Pack safe, all was good.”

“So what happened? You said you did something – “

“I got involved with a hunter – I didn’t know she was a hunter. We – she was my first real girlfriend, knew all the things to say to make me feel special, played on my teenage fantasies – “

“How old were you?”

“Fifteen. Old enough to know better, too young, stupid and ruled by my dick to realise she was pumping me for information.”

“Jesus,” Stiles said, slightly stunned. “You were just a kid.”

“At fifteen, a werewolf has to be mature enough to handle the change and know that the Pack comes first,” Derek intoned as if reading from a prepared speech.

“Even so – “

“I kept her a secret because she asked me to. She said no one would understand our relationship, that we needed to be discreet. So, I met her in the Preserve initially. And then she asked if she could come to my room – the family was away – said she wanted to see where I slept so she could dream of me when she was alone,” Derek said derisively, but Stiles could see that it still hurt him. “So like a fool, I let her into the house. Showed her the secret passages beneath the main house so that she could visit me whenever she wanted to. Showed her all of our defences so that she wasn’t caught out that way. She played me so well,” he said brokenly. “Made me feel special and like a real man. Fucked the sense right out of me so that I almost didn’t realise how much I was betraying my Alpha, my Pack.”

“How did you not smell anything on her? In my limited experience, hunters have a distinctive scent about them according to the wolves I know – gun oil, mountain ash,” Stiles queried.

“Heavy perfume that she said was just for me – that it made her feel sexy wearing it knowing that I would be able to smell wherever she was. Like I told you she knew exactly what to say to an impressionable fifteen year old boy,” Derek replied. “Anyway, once she’d got all of the information out of me that she wanted, she and her brother waited for an important werewolf holiday. She knew – because of me – that the whole Pack would be there, as well as those who were normally away for school, work, Pack business. Then she and her brother surrounded the house with mountain ash – including the tunnels – and set the house on fire.”

“And the humans in your Pack?”

“Shot when they tried to escape. They’d never had the skill to handle mountain ash – we left that to our Emissary – so they couldn’t break it, but they were trying to get help,” Derek said.

“You weren’t there?”

“No. She – Kate – “ he said her name with difficulty. “She deliberately waited until Laura and I were out. I had lacrosse practice and Laura was my ride home. By the time we got there, half of the house was gone. We were pulling up to the wreckage – fire engines, police, all sorts – and Laura cried out. Her eyes flashed red as my Mother’s power passed to her – as my Alpha died.”

“Fuck.”

“Uncle Peter was found in the wreckage – he was the only one to survive but was badly hurt and in a coma.”

“I have to ask – I’m sorry, but why did you leave him behind? Unprotected, unable to look after himself?”

“Laura panicked. She thought the hunters would keep coming after us and decided Beacon Hills wasn’t safe for us. She – she didn’t think about Uncle Peter. She just grabbed me and we left,” Derek admitted, looking up at Stiles as if needing forgiveness. “We never meant to leave him unprotected – she was just 18 and hadn’t expected to become an alpha like that.”

“Did you tell her what happened?”

“No. I was too scared that she’d abandon me for my betrayal, turn me into an omega. We made a life for ourselves in New York and hoped never to return to Beacon Hills.”

“But then – “

“We were called back because Eichen House wanted our permission to perform some – experiments on Uncle Peter. One of the doctors – Valack – wanted to try some different methods of bringing him out of his coma.”

“Different methods?”

“Trepanning was one of them – electroshock therapy was another one.” Derek met Stiles’ eyes. “I know, I know – it sounds so fucking awful. We left him here and only came back because the medical professionals wanted to experiment on him. But we were slightly more established, thought that if maybe Valack brought Peter out of his coma, he could join our Pack.”

“But that isn’t what happened?”

“No. Initially there seemed to be no response to the things that Valack was trying. Physically, Peter healed rapidly on our return – his burns finally disappeared, but he remained in a coma. What we didn’t know was that mentally, he was damaged beyond repair. And he was aware of what was happening – was playing possum.”

“How the hell did he manage that?”

“Uncle Peter could be very charming when he wanted to be,” Derek replied with a sad smile. “I don’t know all of the details – just what we’ve pieced together. He charmed his nurse into helping him hide the fact that he was ‘back’, and went out and destroyed everyone connected to the fire. The investigator, the hunters – all of them.”

“And the brother and sister.”

“Yes. He killed Gerard Argent but got caught. By that time, the Witness/Handler Programme was gaining momentum – they were just looking for a suitable Handler. And Uncle Peter fit their profile.”

“But that’s not all he did – was it?” Stiles asked. 

“No. He – he attacked Laura and me. He didn’t kill us, but he made his feelings felt about being abandoned. He managed to ‘borrow’ some of the Alpha spark from Laura and that’s what he used to finally completely heal.”

“What do you mean – borrowed?”

“He didn’t kill her but he made sure she couldn’t pass it on to anyone else. Laura’s been in a coma since Uncle Peter got through with her – she lives in Eichen’s Supernatural wing now,” Derek said dully.

“And what did he do to you? Did he find out – “

“Oh, yeah, he knew it was my fault. He was going to kill me for betraying the Pack but in the end he didn’t. Instead, he – “

“If you don’t want to talk about this any more – “ Stiles offered, seeing how much distress Derek was in.

“No, it’s okay. I haven’t actually told anyone the full story before – I guess I needed to get it out. He marked me – with the sign of a betrayer so that no other Pack would ever take me in. It was better than I could have hoped for really – he could have killed me, or rendered me a vegetable. But instead, he left me to live this half life. I’m not omega because I have an alpha, even if she’s unconscious. And I can’t move to another Pack because no one would have me.” Derek looked Stiles straight in the eye. “Some people might say he was merciful but I think he knew this would be a far worse punishment for me.”

“But you were a kid,” Stiles protested.

“I still knew better. No, I don’t deserve a full life after what I did – what I cost him and Laura.”

“Can Laura be healed?”

“No. He’s siphoned her power away from her little by little until she’s nothing but a husk. He’s stronger than an alpha with all of the instincts of a Left Hand – there’s no one out there that can beat him,” Derek said calmly.

“Do you truly believe that or – “

“Uncle Peter is damned near the perfect killing machine,” Derek replied in a dead tone. “If he ever decides to come and finish me off, I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

* * *

Peter watched as Stiles left his nephew’s house, impressed. Neither Brunski or Deaton had ever thought enough about his background to try to find out the truth of what had happened – they had merely accepted that Peter felt the need for vengeance and had done what was necessary. He would go so far as to think that Lydia had never bothered tracking Derek down.

However, no matter how much he might admire Stiles’ thorough investigation, he didn’t like the thought of him getting a one-sided view of things from Derek. As Stiles drove away, Peter wondered whether leaving his nephew alive had been a mistake. 

Perhaps he should talk to him – ensure that he knew he was alive merely because Peter couldn’t be bothered to finish him off – for the moment.

* * *


	6. Not according to plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things might start to get a bit bloody after this....

“There is one thing I insist on from my Witness,” Peter said as soon as Stiles arrived the following evening. 

“And good evening to you too,” Stiles replied, dumping his messenger bag and heading towards where he thought the kitchen was. He’d had a sleepless night thinking of everything that Derek Hale had told him and felt like death. “Should I know what you’re talking about?”

“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. But the fact that you spoke to my nephew is neither here nor there – just don’t lie to me. Do you understand?” Stiles turned in the act of pouring himself a mug of coffee, slightly surprised that Peter knew about his visit to see Derek. Before he could react, Peter had him by the throat and had shoved him across the room until his back was against the wall. “Do I make myself clear?”

Shifting uncomfortably in Peter’s grip, Stiles realised that instead of being scared he was aroused. He flushed and Peter’s brow rose before he inhaled deeply, a look of surprise crossing his face. 

“Have I pushed one of your buttons, Mieczsylaw?” His pronunciation was perfect, the deep throatiness of his voice adding to Stiles’ dilemma. “I wonder, little Witness, what you would let me do to you? Should I punish you?”

“I don’t think that’s gonna be necessary,” Stiles managed to grate out, struggling to speak with the grip on his throat. “And I wasn’t aware that I had buttons for you to push, so – “

“Is this a fear response? Or something more?” Peter leaned in, running his nose down the length of Stiles’ neck. “Do you want me to own you, little Witness? Do you want me to tell you what I would like to do to you and make you do it as you pretend not to want it?”

“I’m honest enough with myself to not pretend anything,” Stiles stated clearly, his hand gripping Peter’s wrist uselessly. The full length of the wolf’s body was pressed against his own, holding him against the wall so that the hand on his throat was unnecessary. 

“So if I asked you what Derek told you – “

“Then I’d have no issue with telling you. But this isn’t the right way to foster a good working relationship,” Stiles said. “This borders on a hostile working environment if you don’t mind me saying so.”

He could feel the firm thrust of Peter’s arousal against his stomach, the slight difference in their height making it so that he was almost on tiptoe. Jesus, he hadn’t even considered he might be attracted to his Handler – he had his plan in mind and Peter had a role to play in it. That was it – there shouldn’t _be_ anything else on his mind. Then Peter slowly shoved his thigh between Stiles’ legs, pressing upwards until, unbidden, a moan escaped him. 

“Forgive me for saying so, but you don’t appear to be finding your working environment particularly hostile,” Peter ground out between the fangs that had slid down, his eyes beginning to glow an electric blue. “I would go so far as to suggest that this could be a benefit – to both of us.”

“In what way? And would it be too much to ask that you remove your hand from my throat while we’re having this conversation?” Stiles said. 

“Why? I like holding you like this – it means I can feel your pulse beneath my tongue,” Peter said, licking up Stiles’ neck, “and most definitely tell if you’re lying. That seems perfectly ideal for me.”

“Yeah, well – as the person with his throat in a vulnerable, slashing-friendly place, can I just say I would much prefer it if we could have this conversation sitting opposite each other, with a table between us and a gun in my hand,” Stiles stated, holding back a groan when Peter shifted his leg again. “Seriously? I can’t have this conversation with you and parse the whole new kink that I appear to have grown at the same time! So – you know, put me down maybe?”

“But you’re **my** Witness – shouldn’t you be doing everything to ensure that I’m kept happy? Especially on a day like today,” Peter protested, a hint of a smile on his face.

“Fuck you! I spent the morning filling in the mountains of paperwork that you never have to do, after a damned near sleepless night trying to figure out how your nephew’s story fits with what Professor Valack told me, so don’t even go there with the whole _I should be keeping you happy_!!” Taking Peter by surprise, Stiles twisted his wrist backwards and managed to slide out from the wall and step across the kitchen. “I’d be some kind of fucking idiot to pretend that you can’t tell how much I liked that but – man, I don’t even know!”

“Good to know you won’t be completely useless in a fight, but I’m sure you’re aware that if I hadn’t wanted to let you go, I wouldn’t have,” Peter said, leaning against the wall. Before Stiles could respond, the doorbell rang and Peter went on alert. Stiles followed him to the front door, wishing he’d brought his baseball bat from the Jeep. Which was kind of ridiculous because if a werewolf couldn’t beat whoever – or whatever – was at the door, he would stand very little chance with just a bat.

“It’s Satomi’s betas,” Peter said, opening the door. “Good to know you’re punctual,” he said crisply to the two young men waiting on the doorstep. “Come in.” 

They both stepped into the hallway, keeping their eyes down and heads lowered in postures of submission. 

“This is my Witness – if anything happens to him because you refuse to cooperate with each other or disobey any of my orders and I’ll skin you alive and make you eat your own skin,” Peter said conversationally. “Stiles – this is Liam and Brett, our bait for the evening. Right, now that everyone has been introduced, shall we get on with it? The night isn’t getting any longer.”

* * *

The plan was a simple one. The betas would be in the middle of the road when Araya’s vehicle drove by, hopefully causing them to stop. If they didn’t, then they would _make_ it stop. They would deal with the guards whilst Peter swept in from the side and took Araya. 

“Why do I have to stay in the van?” Stiles protested, fidgeting slightly.

“Which part of being a witness bypassed your brain-cells?” Peter said, zipping himself into a black leather jacket and pulling a beanie on his head. It made him almost invisible in the darkness and Stiles shivered at the thought of coming upon him unawares. 

“Fine, fine, I get it,” he replied, still not happy. “What if something happens to those two?” he continued, gesturing to where Brett and Liam were arguing a short distance away.

“They have their instructions. Satomi wants them to get past their squabbling and work together as proper pack-mates. If tonight doesn’t teach them how to do that, then perhaps only one of them will make it back to Satomi. Either way, it’s nothing to do with us – they know what they’re getting themselves into.”

Peter waited as if expecting Stiles to object but he merely nodded. He knew better than to get involved in Pack politics. He and Peter had been very clear with Satomi about what they were facing – if she wanted to use this as an object lesson for quarrelsome betas, that was her decision. 

“Keep the engine running – I can hear a vehicle,” Peter said before melting into the darkness. Settling himself in the driving seat, Stiles tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, trying not to check his watch obsessively. Even the simplest plans could go wrong, and if Peter appeared at a run, Stiles wanted to be ready. He knew Peter had a syringe containing a powerful cocktail of ketamine and various other chemicals that according to Peter would knock Araya out quickly. Stiles wished he’d asked more about the mix of chemicals – what if Peter had messed up the dosage? What if Araya wasn’t in the vehicle? What if – 

Before he could spiral any further, Peter emerged from the darkness, easily carrying a body over his shoulder. Stiles turned to watch as Peter opened the sliding door at the side of the van and dropped the body inside, before stripping off his hat and gloves, tossing them alongside the unconscious woman and shutting the door behind him. He climbed into the passenger seat without saying a word, merely giving Stiles a look. Stiles returned his look with a glare, slightly pissed at Peter’s casual attitude.

“Ah, were you worried about me, my little Witness?” he finally said in a silky tone.

“Asshole,” was Stiles’ only reply as he pulled out of the side road and headed towards Peter’s killing space. He could feel his heart pumping fast in his chest, his breathing was elevated – and he was self-aware enough to realise that he was still aroused. Something about the calm, collected manner in which Peter had handled this portion of the evening really did it for him, and he was rapidly having to reassess his plans. 

If he was feeling like this now, what would it be like once they were in the killing space? And what about afterwards?

* * *

Araya Calaveras came to strapped into a chair, head muzzy from whatever drug she had been given, and facing a young man she had never seen before. He was sat opposite her, legs crossed at the ankles, attention completely on the cell-phone in his hands. 

“What the hell is going on?” she cried out, struggling against her bonds. The man looked up, turning off his cell and putting it into his pocket as he got to his feet. He was tall, lean but muscled, pale in the artificial light of the room, moles dotting his face. He walked over to her, careful to remain out of reach of her kicking legs as he looked her over.

“Araya Calaveras, you have been brought here following summary judgement by the Witness/Handler Programme for your crimes against supernaturals. Please be aware that this is not a court of law – there will be no trial in front of your peers, no pleas accepted, no plea bargains offered. You have been tried and judged and sentence will be carried out this evening. Do your understand what I have said to you?”

“I understand that my family will track you down and kill you, you murdering – “

“I’ll take that as a statement of acceptance – that you understand why you are here and why you are being judged.” His facial expression was bland, his eyes remorseless as he looked at her, and for possibly the first time in her life she felt real fear. 

“This is that despicable programme where you psychopaths are allowed to kill innocent people and claim that it’s in the name of justice!” she cried out.

“Innocent people? I have gone through the evidence against you carefully, as have two other members of the Programme. There is no world in which you would be considered ‘innocent’. You have killed many, and caused the death of untold others. You hold yourself to no code, have no honour, and will die for your crimes,” he spat back at her, his eyes finally showing emotion. “You should be ashamed of your inhumane treatment of others – and yes, I can call it inhumane because many of the people you killed _were_ innocent, and you tortured, experimented and killed them simply because they didn’t fit your narrow view of what should and shouldn’t be allowed on this earth. May God have mercy on your soul, although I doubt that there is much left of that black mess by this point.”

She flinched as he lifted his hand, expecting a killing blow, but he simply ran his hands through his hair. “I hereby stand as Witness,” he stated, then moved back to the chair he had previously occupied.

“What – you’re – “

“I’m not the Handler – I’m the Witness. He’s the Handler,” he said, nodding his head in the direction of a door she hadn’t previously seen where a man was just coming into view. As he stepped into the light, Araya hissed, the now-familiar sense of fear morphing into terror. 

“Peter Hale!”

“In the flesh. I have heard so much about you, Araya – of how you instructed your sons in how to cause the most damage and keep a victim alive; of how you trained them not to show mercy; of how _proud_ you are of what your family has done,” Peter said calmly. He walked over to the chair she was strapped to, resting his hands on the arm-rests and looking her in the eye. “You mistook my Witness for the psychopath, which says a lot about your ability to judge your fellow man. No, Araya, it is **me** you should be afraid of – because I am going to make you pay for every single fellow supernatural creature that you have hurt over the years.”

“You don’t understand – I was just – “

“Oh please, don’t break down yet – we’re just getting to the good part,” Peter replied in a chiding tone, his eyes flaring blue and his face transforming. “Now where should we start?”

* * *


	7. Blood and Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: graphic violence, sexual situations, BDSM undertones, what could be considered blood play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt that I'm using for this fic is 'Anyone Can Die'.

A bloodied, clawed hand to his throat kept him pressed against the wall as Peter ate at his mouth. He could do nothing but hang onto Peter’s shoulders as the other man ripped at the collar of his shirt until it was wide enough to slide down his shoulders and cage his arms. 

“You only get one chance to use that list of phone numbers I know the delicious Lydia gave you – otherwise you’re mine,” Peter growled through his fangs, sliding one claw along the curve of Stiles’ shoulder and his collar bone. Barely able to concentrate, Stiles forced himself to pay attention to what Peter was saying. 

“Yours?”

“Oh yes, my little-Witness. Mine,” Peter stated, face morphing back to normal so that the blood splatters stood out starkly on his skin. “You’ve seen who I am, know what wolves are like – you need to make your choice.”

“Little early for lifelong commitment don’t you think,” he hedged, whining slightly as Peter’s hands slid down to the waistband of his jeans and ripped open the button. “Okay, okay – yeah!”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Peter was pressing on his shoulders, forcing him down onto his knees. With no preamble, he yanked open his trousers and pulled out his cock, presenting it to Stiles. 

“Lick it – and don’t touch _anything_ unless I tell you that you can,” Peter stated, gripping the hair on Stiles’ head and forcing his head backwards. “Understand?”

Stiles nodded, tears prickling his eyes at the tug on his hair. He put his hands behind his back, clasping them together then put his tongue out to do as he had been told. 

“Good boy,” Peter said, looking down at him as he struggled against the grip on his hair. “Now take it in – all the way. I want to feel your throat struggling against me,” Peter continued. Stiles had no idea how long he was on his knees, sucking and laving at Peter’s dick, forcing himself not to touch his own aching hardness or Peter. “So good for me – I’m going to come now and you’re going to swallow it all down like a good boy,” Peter finally said, his eyes gleaming. Stiles nodded as best he could, desperate for something, anything to help ease the pain of arousal. 

From the moment Peter had begun working on Araya, Stiles had found himself fighting the need to jump the man. It began so slowly, little nicks and slices that barely registered as the woman spat vitriol at them both. All the while, Peter was in complete control, listing the grievances against her, naming her victims as he marked her for every one of them. 

Only when she was sobbing with the pain, slumped in her bonds, did Peter begin to question her. Every question he asked, she answered, and Stiles had resorted to recording it all on his cell – he could barely imagine the number of cases that they would be able to close with the information Peter was forcing out of her. He’d been on the edge of his seat, the heel of his hand pressed against his erection, as it became obvious that things were coming to an end. 

He hadn’t been sure how he would react to seeing someone being killed: revulsion? Terror? Anguish at the loss of human life? He had never expected to feel such an overwhelming sense of arousal. The final blow, slicing through her jugular vein and watching as Araya’s lifeblood pumped out onto the floor of the killing space had almost been enough to bring him to orgasm. 

Peter had turned to him like a conquering warrior, nostrils flaring, eyes bright, then strode over to him, yanked him up from his chair and pushing him backwards until his back hit a wall. 

“Stay with me,” Peter’s voice called him back from the weird space his brain was in, and he blinked through the tears in his eyes, focusing intently on the face above his as Peter registered that Stiles was once again paying full attention. Holding Stiles head against his groin, he thrust several times, then roared and came down his throat.

* * *

His little-Witness lay on the floor, bruises on his throat along with a bloodied handprint and all Peter wanted to do was roll him the blood that had pooled on the ground, mark him with Peter’s kill so that he knew who he belonged to. 

Instead, he helped Stiles lie down on the floor, then pulled open his pants and tugged down his boxers. His cock was red and angry looking, and Peter was impressed with his restraint – there weren’t many who would have been able to resist taking themselves in hand in such a state of arousal. Ripping the remnants of the shirt off of Stiles body, Peter feasted on him, sucking up bruises, nibbling and biting, marking his entire chest and belly as he made his way down his body. 

“Please – please – “ Stiles begged, his voice a barely audible croak, desperate need in his tone. He deserved this reward. Cupping the lightly furred balls, Peter squeezed them gently as he swallowed Stiles’ length, sucking hard and pushing the other man into orgasm. Wiping his mouth, he moved back up Stiles’ body and pressed a kiss to the unconscious man’s lips, tasting himself for a moment and relishing yet another sign of his ownership. 

Rising to his feet, he grabbed his shirt and tugged it over his head, laying it over Stiles to keep him as warm as much as possible. He had a body to deal with.

With the ease of long practice, he took the necessary photos of Araya’s corpse as the required proof of a case successfully Handled, before untying her bonds and rolling her in a pre-prepared tarp. Once the body was put to one side, he carefully rinsed down the floor, washing the blood down the drain that had been installed for just this purpose. As he hadn’t used any tools other than the ones nature had gifted him with, there was very little other clean-up required, and he looked around, satisfied that everything was back the way that it should be. 

He deposited the body outside in the agreed-upon collection spot, sending a coded text to let the team know that a pick up was required. Once that was all completed, he changed into his wolf form and went for a run, indulging his predator nature by chasing prey through the Preserve until the early dawn.

When he returned to his killing space, Stiles was gone.

* * *

“You better have a good explanation for this,” Valack said, scowling at Stiles across the desk.

“What?” Stiles’ voice was wrecked and he knew he looked less than professional. His spare set of clothes from the Jeep were casual and although he had done his best to clean himself up when he received the call, he knew he looked less than his best.

“Where was Hale last night? You were meant to keep track of him!” Valack stated harshly.

“Sir – perhaps if you told me – “

“A body has been found and it looks like a werewolf attack. The tracking devices have all been checked and the only one not working last night belongs to Peter,” Lydia said calmly from her position at Valack’s side. “We need to know where he was last night.”

“He was with me – we were Handling a case,” Stiles said, frowning in confusion. Peter hadn’t been there when he awoke to the sound of his ringtone, but he had taken comfort in the fact that the other man had done up his pants and covered him in a shirt for warmth. 

“The Calaveras case?” Valack said with a frown, turning to Lydia for confirmation. “You managed that already?”

“Yes, sir. Once we’d corroborated the evidence provided, I sanctioned the Handling and we got onto it immediately,” Stiles explained. “I have a recording from the Handling that includes information that should enable us to close quite a number of cases – it’s date and time stamped, so that should assist in things.”

Valack raised an eyebrow, looking impressed as he accepted Stiles’ cell-phone once he had unlocked it. Valack handed it to Lydia, who rolled her eyes subtly before finding the recording and pressing play. The sounds of Araya’s gasping confessions sounded strange outside of the kill-space, gaps in between Peter’s questions and her replies taking Stiles back to watching Peter at work.

“That was – enlightening. And goes a long way to corroborating what you’ve said about Hale’s whereabouts,” Lydia said once the recording had finished. She handed Stiles cell-phone back to him and he saw that a text message from Peter had arrived. He locked the cell and slid it into his pocket. “We shall have to look into his tracking device and why it wasn’t working.”

“May I ask who was killed?” Stiles managed, taking a sip from the glass of water that he had requested when he entered the room. Valack was still frowning as he gathered together a stack of paper and photographs and handed them over the desk.

Opening the file, it took Stiles a moment to realise what he was seeing. The body was sprawled awkwardly on a floor, limbs splayed, head at an unnatural angle. Whoever had done it was messy – there was blood splattered all around, debris from what looked like a dropped tray scattered on the floor. Stiles took a deep breath, taking in the dark hair now stained with blood, the beautiful kaleidoscope eyes staring blankly into space, the sad, handsome face lax in death.

“You recognise him,” Valack said, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“Yes – it’s Derek Hale.”

* * *


	8. An Honest Psychopath

Stiles slammed into Peter’s house and stalked through to the study where Peter was tidying up the murder-board.“Did you kill Derek?” 

“Good afternoon, Stiles – how lovely to see you,” Peter replied, smirking at Stiles over his shoulder before returning to his self-imposed task.

“Don’t fuck with me, Peter – I just gave you a god-damned alibi!” Stiles snapped, throwing down his bag and falling into a chair. “Did you kill Derek?”

“You mean the only conscious family I have left in the world, the fruit of my sister’s loins, the boy I played with as he grew into those horrendous ears and bunny teeth of his?” Peter replied.

“Seriously?”

“No, I didn’t kill Derek,” Peter said, turning to face Stiles. “Although can you take my word for it since I am a diagnosed psychopathic serial killer? I must say, I do love seeing my marks on you – who knew your skin would bruise so beautifully?”

“Stop fucking with me!!” Stiles put his head down into his hands. “He’s dead – do you understand that? And it happened last night – “

“When I was with you – “

“You weren’t with me all night! You left me on the floor of the kill-space and disappeared for god knows how many hours!” 

“I did up your pants and covered you with my shirt,” Peter protested mildly.

“Where did you go?”

“I have no idea. When I give in to my wolf completely, I don’t think of such things as coordinates. I ran my territory, ate a rabbit or two, slept in the wild,” Peter said. “Then I returned only to find that my little-Witness has disappeared with nary a hint as to where he had gone. I was most disappointed – I was hoping for a continuation of last night.”

Despite himself, Stiles blushed before shaking his head at Peter’s statement.

“Why didn’t your tracker work?” he asked. “Professor Valack and Lydia said that yours was the only one they couldn’t check last night.”

“I disabled that thing long ago – looks like I’ll have to reassure them that it was a glitch so that they don’t get any ideas about putting in a new one. They’re such an irritant – like scratchy wool,” Peter shuddered dramatically whilst walking over to Stiles’ chair and coming to a stop in front of him. “Do you really think I killed my nephew?”

Stiles looked up into Peter’s face, trying to read his expression. It was next to impossible – the man looked like he was discussing what to have for breakfast, not the death of a family member. 

“No – yes – hell, I don’t know!” Running his hands tiredly over his face, he got to his feet and faced Peter head-on. “Does the thing about lying apply to you too?”

“When it suits me,” Peter replied smoothly, lowering his head to nose at Stiles’ neck. 

“Did you kill Derek?”

“How did he die?”

“His throat was clawed open – he bled out on his kitchen floor. I couldn’t tell from the photographs why he didn’t at least _try_ to get some help,” Stiles said, frustrated with his inability to read Peter. 

“Ah well, you know it wasn’t me then. If I’d killed him, I’d have ripped out his traitorous heart,” Peter said, murmuring in Stiles’ ear. “Do you have these photos?”

“Yes – Lydia gave me a copy of the file when I asked, although I don’t think Valack knows,” Stiles replied, tilting his head to the side to give Peter more room. It was so difficult to concentrate with Peter just running his nose up and down his neck, occasionally stopping to breathe gently against his ear. 

“Well,” Peter sighed, his hand sliding around Stiles’ hip to bring him into closer contact. “I guess you better put up another of your delightful murder boards and we shall have to see who took my kill away from me – and I so wanted to do something much more interesting this afternoon.”

“So sure I’d be coming back?” Stiles questioned.

“Oh yes – because no one else can give you what I give you, little-Witness – no one else can see the man beneath the cheerful mask to the darkness beneath,” Peter replied, the tip of his tongue tracing the curve of Stiles’ ear and stealing his breath. “You liked what happened last night – and the sex,” he continued. “You want to know if it’s always like that – the rush of adrenaline, the feeling of power, the sheer _high_ of holding someone’s life in your hands and you can’t get that anywhere other than with me.”

“I could always branch out as a serial killer on my own,” Stiles protested, unable to deny Peter’s words. 

“But then I wouldn’t be there with you, showing you the ways in which you can keep your victim alive and conscious, feeling the excruciating pain but unable to escape it – you **need** me to help you feel that alive again. Don’t you, little-Witness?”

“Yes,” Stiles admitted, turning his head and catching Peter’s mouth with his own. He grabbed Peter’s face, holding him in place for the dominating kiss he forced onto him, bruising his lips with the intensity of the kiss. Part of him was surprised that Peter was allowing him this much control; the other parts of him were relishing the taste of the man that seemed to know him better than he knew himself.

* * *

”See that?” Peter asked, pointing at a close up of Derek’s torn open throat.

“No, what am I looking – wait, is that a hesitation mark?”

“The killer wasn’t used to using their claws – the hesitation was them adjusting to ensure it was a killing stroke,” Peter explained, tapping the photograph that Stiles had printed out and attached to the board. “Derek was taken by surprise – he was too experienced a wolf to turn his back on a fellow predator. But it _was_ someone he knew,” Peter mused.

“None of the werewolves registered in Beacon Hills have cause to go after him,” Stiles said, rummaging through the file. “I checked what Lydia and Valack said – there wasn’t a registered werewolf within a mile of his residence.”

“Not a _registered_ werewolf, no,” Peter agreed, before grabbing the file from Stiles and flicking quickly through the pages. “Look, here – do you see this?”

“The footprint?”

“Yes – small feet for a man, wouldn’t you say?” 

“So it’s a woman?”

“Yes – I think it is. And I don’t think it’s a werewolf – the claw marks are slightly different. Could be a coyote, maybe a big cat,” Peter said, something tickling the edge of his memory. “If we’re going to be working this, perhaps you could demonstrate a little trust.”

“Like what?” Stiles replied. “If I recall, I was the last one to do show and tell – since then, you haven’t told me a damned thing.”

“I didn’t _tell_ you anything but I did show you who I am,” Peter said calmly, dropping the file and pulling Stiles into his arms. “I let you see the basest part of me – apart from me in full shift – and shared with you my passion. What more could I possibly tell you?”

Stiles moved easily into Peter’s arms, resting his arms around his shoulders and merely looking at his face. He seemed to be considering something, deciding because he nodded once and pulled away.

“Fine.” He turned and headed out of the study and Peter followed, curious to know what was to come. “I need coffee if we’re gonna have this conversation.”

Once they have coffee and sandwiches as Stiles has realised that in his rush to get to his meeting, he had neglected to eat, they sat at the kitchen table and Stiles began his tale.

“You know my father was killed by Chris Argent – or associates of his. You asked me what happened to the daughter and I didn’t reply. According to the information I’ve managed to gather, she was left for dead after having her throat clawed open. It should have been enough to finish her off – it _wouldshould_ have remained private. 

And in the meantime, they continued attempting to exterminate any supernaturals that they came across, sometimes chasing them into different territories during their hunts. 

The next part of our story takes us away from the Calaveras family – slightly. A pack of werewolves discovered that by killing their betas, they could gain a power-up if you like. No idea who had the thought initially, but it became a little too popular. Five alphas that I know of decided that they couldn’t resist such power – took out their entire packs, including their emissaries. 

Ennis Powell was one of them. Unfortunately, Ennis caught the eye of the Calaveras, and despite being powerful, he wasn’t strong enough to handle an entire hunter clan alone. So he was looking for another power-up. Which was when – being chased and hounded, he killed a single mother who was simply trying to do the best for her son; changed the kid to use up like a battery. He must have been interrupted because he did a runner – maybe the Calaveras got a little too close. Whatever – he just left the kid and ran.

Ennis was kinda careless though – he assumed the Calaveras were the only people looking for him. They weren’t.”

Peter nodded, fascinated by the insight into Stiles that he was being given. The sarcastic, almost jovial mask was gone – in its place was something he could recognise because he saw it in the mirror every day.

“When I found him, he _really_ didn’t take me seriously. I can see why – I was hardly a combat veteran or anything like that. But I was pissed – I’d lost my Dad and now I’d lost my replacement family. It wasn’t pretty, or organised or anything like what I saw you do – was it only yesterday? It was bloody and gruesome and difficult, but I made sure Ennis would never do anything like that again.” Stiles fiddled with the empty coffee mug in his hands. “I knew enough from the training I’d had up until that point to ensure that I could get rid of a body; removed any evidence of my presence; alibied myself. Then I got Scott a place with Satomi’s pack and finished my programme.”

“That was fascinating,” Peter said, taking hold of Stiles’ hand and squeezing it gently. “But what does that have to do with you finagling your way into being my Witness? Oh yes, my sources finally got back to me while you were with the beautiful Lydia and I know you scuppered the chances of any other Witnesses that might have been matched with me. I heard about the accident a young man called Greenberg suffered that rendered him ineligible for active duty.”

“I did wonder if you’d find all of that out,” Stiles admitted, “but I needed to be your Witness because I needed **you**. I needed someone who had the same desire, need as I did – to remove someone from existence – finish the extinction of a certain hunter family.”

“Hence asking about whether I hunted fellow supernaturals?” Peter asked.

“Yes. That put a little crimp in my plans but I figured I could work my way around that eventually,” Stiles replied. “I knew the Calaveras had driven her in this direction but I didn’t expect this to happen – if I had thought for even a second that she would hurt your family – “

“Derek ceased to be family the moment he deserted me along with his sister. I could have forgiven him for the whole falling for a hunter fuck-up, but leaving me completely unprotected, not giving Laura the information she needed to know how much danger I was in – _that_ was unforgivable,” Peter stated firmly. 

“I wasn’t completely sure that it was her, but talking to you this afternoon – all of the pieces fit,” Stiles said, turning his hand within Peter’s grip to hold on tightly.

“Valack and Lydia won’t accept our little leaps of intuition as sufficient grounds,” Peter said. “They’ll want to conduct a long-ass investigation, during which time she’ll continue her little killing spree unhindered.”

“Her failure with the berserkers was more a case of bad luck than anything else – she was close to having them under her control,” Stiles said, looking closely at Peter. “I don’t know what last night awoke in me – the whole being dominated thing is completely out of the realm of my experience. But the killing? Bringing Araya Calaveras to justice? That wasn’t new – that’s been my reason for carrying on since my Dad died.”

“I appreciate your honesty, little-Witness,” Peter finally said. “And you’re correct in your conclusions – we do have the same agenda. But you do realise that if we do this, there is no room for either of us in the Programme any longer. Valack does not tolerate freelancers.”

“I know – I get it.”

“Very well – you and I will work together, which should be interesting as it’s not something I really do,” Peter said, “We have the same goal – La Loba must die.”

* * *


	9. Initial Witness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise meeting in the Preserve, unexpected information about the past, and a reveal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: graphic depictions of torture and violence - check the notes at the end of the chapter if you want to know before reading.

[ ](https://steterstan.nickpic.host/image/j5wmOb)

“I don’t know what you’re bitching about – Satomi was pleased with how you and Brett worked together,” Scott said, following Liam through the trees. “You got the bad guys, Hale got his prey – what else could you have wanted?”

“Brett didn’t pull his weight – I was fighting off two of them while he was messing about with one of them,” Liam groused, holding a branch out of Scott’s way. 

“Were you, like, scared? I mean, I’ve heard stories about Peter Hale – about how he burned most of his Pack alive? And then, he ripped the alpha spark out of his niece and left her a vegetable in some crummy nuthouse!” Scott said. “ _And_ , he’s a straight up, psychopath dude! I mean – he even works for those people!”

“Not gonna lie, he scared the shit out of me! I don’t care what Brett says, we were _both_ scared of him! He threatened us as soon as we arrived – said if we let anything happen to his Witness, he’d skin us alive and I think he meant literally!”

“Well – Stiles is a good guy – I can’t blame Hale for protecting him!” Scott replied. “He was really there for me when my Mom died and I was bitten.”

“Sorry – I kinda forgot that,” Liam apologised, reaching back to grab Scott’s hand and squeeze it. “No offence meant, dude.”

“It’s cool.”

“Aren’t you worried about your friend, though? I read some of the statistics on Witness survival and things go wrong **a lot**!! What if Hale turns on him and kills him or something?!”

“Liam – where are we going?”

“It’s not far. After Brett and I dealt with the hunters, we did some exploring in the Preserve. Don’t tell Satomi cos she told us to come straight back,” Liam said, pushing onwards. “There was a little lake thing – I thought we could go for a swim! You know – “

“Yeah – that sounds like fun,” Scott replied and Liam smiled to himself. Apart from Brett, there wasn’t really anyone his age in Satomi’s pack, so when Scott had joined Liam had been assigned as his ‘watcher’. A deep friendship had built up from there and he appreciated what a straight-up guy Scott was. He was all kinds of nice and always saw the good in everyone – which could get irritating because he refused to see what a butt-munch Brett was – and he could always be relied upon to get into a little mischief. Not too much – he didn’t like lying to Satomi, or going against his Alpha – but enough to make things fun. 

“Here it is!” The small lake was dark and still in the light of the moon, the atmosphere relaxing and Liam was pleased that he had found his way back so easily. “Last one in is a rotten egg!”

“No fair!” Scott cried out as Liam began tearing his clothes off, making the most of his small lead.

“I didn’t realise anyone else was around!” A female voice had Scott and Liam turning towards the woman in surprise, Liam tugging off his sweater so that he could see her clearly. She was older than them, but really sexy looking in tight jeans and a low-vee necked sweater. Long, dirty blonde hair and clear blue eyes, with a very pretty face, her slender body shown to advantage in her clothes. Liam could now see that there was a leather jacket draped over one of the boulders around the mini-lake and the woman was barefoot. “I didn’t mean to trespass – let me just get my stuff and I’ll go,” she continued.

“NO!” Liam cried out at the same time as Scott. 

“You don’t have to go – it’s not our land either,” Scott said. “We were just coming for a swim.”

“Yeah, me too! I stumbled across it by accident when I was hiking early today – thought I’d come back for a little skinny-dipping!” Liam could feel himself flushing at the idea of the woman swimming naked and a glance at Scott showed he was doing the same. “I mean, if you guys don’t mind me staying – I could always just swim in my underwear I guess.”

“Yeah – I mean, we were just gonna wear our shorts or whatever,” Liam said, his eyes going up and down her body. He couldn’t help himself – she was mesmerising. Liam liked a girl at their school, Hayden, but so far all they’d done was argue, and he was a teenage boy – who in their right mind would turn down a chance to swim semi-naked with a beautiful woman?

“If you’d prefer some privacy,” Scott said, ever the gentleman damn him, “we can come back another time. We wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“That’s so sweet of you,” she said, moving closer. “But you seem like such nice young men – I actually feel a little safer with you two around. I’ve heard noises in the night here before – like, growling and howling! Some of them were kinda scary!” 

“Oh, we’ll look after you,” Scott said, his eyes flashing amber in the light and Liam slapped him quickly to warn him. Scott lowered his head and Liam stepped forward to shield his friend. 

“Yeah – it’s probably safer for you not to swim alone,” he said.

“Such gentlemen,” she almost purred in response. “My name is Katherine but you can call me Kate.”

* * *

”You know, for someone who hasn’t known Peter for very long, you’ve got in very deep, very quickly,” Lydia said and Stiles gave a sad smile. He had hoped that they wouldn’t have this conversation but it needed to happen.

“It is what it is – it’s not against the regulations for there to be a relationship between the Witness and the Handler,” he retorted, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“True – mainly because it didn’t occur to the people writing the regulations that anyone would want to get involved with a psychopath,” she said tartly and Stiles nodded his head in acknowledgement.

“Any chance we can just say that we’ve had the talk – you’ve warned me about getting in over my head, I’ve absolved you of responsibility and move on?”

“Stiles – “

“Lydia,” he said firmly. “I get it – I know what I’m getting myself into.”

“No, I really don’t think you do,” she said softly. “Did he tell you what happened to Brunski?”

“His first Witness? No – it hasn’t come up,” Stiles said, his interest peaked. 

“I argued with Professor Valack that anybody who took up the position as Peter’s Witness deserved to know what happened to Brunski, but he overruled me. But if you’re going to get involved – _are_ involved, then you deserve to know who you’re getting involved with.”

“Then I’ll ask Peter,” Stiles said, suddenly unwilling to hear it from Lydia. 

“And just hope that he’s telling you the truth? A bit like the situation with Derek?” Lydia said archly and Stiles struggled to keep his face straight. “I know he wasn’t with you when Derek died, but I also know that you believe that he didn’t kill him. I want to give you the information you need to just _consider_ the possibility that he did kill Derek.”

“Fine – go ahead.”

“Brunski worked at Eichen House whilst Peter was there. He was originally one of the nurses, but he wanted to move out and up – professed an interest in the Witness Programme.” Lydia sighed before taking a sip of her own beverage. “He wasn’t very well-liked – amongst the patients or the staff – but it wasn’t as if we had a huge pool of people volunteering to work with psychopaths – we took what we could get at the beginning of the Programme.”

“Okay,” Stiles said.

“There were some accusations about his conduct – serious accusations – but they were either investigated and found to have insufficient evidence, or proven to be untrue. As far as we could ascertain anyway.”

“What kind of accusations?”

“Brunski liked the power – being in control. Sometimes he was allegedly rougher with the patients than was needed, used methods of restraint that were not considered the norm, and would not be acceptable now. He was also known to be liberal with the administration of drugs – he felt that if a patient needed to be calmed down, the doctors didn’t always prescribe a high enough dosage.”

“He was drugging them to keep them quiet so he could do his own thing?”

“Possibly. As I said, none of this was ever proved,” Lydia said. “For the longest time, Peter was completely unresponsive – everything had to be done for him, from basic hygiene to physiotherapy to avoid muscle wastage. Brunski wasn’t always – _kind_ – in how he handled his patients. When Laura and Derek came back to Beacon Hills and Peter began to become more responsive, he expressed some displeasure regarding things he claimed to have experienced.”

“He remembered how Brunski had treated him,” Stiles surmised. 

“Possibly,” Lydia continued. “As his natural metabolism took over, his resistance to the drugs that were being used became stronger, and it was necessary on occasion to administer a higher level of drugs than might be considered safe.”

“Like when you were conducting Valack’s experiments,” Stiles said, frowning.

“I’m not going to pretend that everything Professor Valack has done has been professional or always ethical – when this whole programme started, it was considered way out there so there weren’t rules books.”

“Stop with the excuses and just tell me,” Stiles interrupted.

“Fine,” she snapped in return. “Do you know what an oubliette is?”

“An underground dungeon or something, right?”

“That’s right,” Lydia replied. “Peter didn’t feel that his complaints were taken seriously – that his honour was impugned by the implication that he might have misremembered what happened whilst he was in a coma. To add insult to injury, Brunski was assigned as his Witness, had access to his most private places and information, had little to no respect for Peter as he continued to view him as one of his patients.”

“I can see how that would grate. But what does that have to do with – “

“In the initial stages of the programme, there was a lot of work to do. Peter was handling cases that weren’t in his area simply because we didn’t have anyone else to do them. So he was kept very busy. But things began to calm down, to slow down. Peter chafed under the restrictions Brunski insisted on – he felt that Brunski was abusing his power over him. And he was bored – he had dealt with the majority of the people involved in the Hale fire. So he waited until their latest case was handled – when Brunski was scheduled for annual leave – and he knocked him unconscious once he had reported in. No one was expecting to hear from Brunski for two weeks.”

“Jesus – “

“He kept him locked in an underground dungeon, giving him just enough food and water to survive, drugging him using the same chemicals that Brunski had used in Eichen House. Then, once the skin was hanging off his bones because he was being damned near starved, Peter began to carve bits off of him and send them to the patients in Eichen House. Every single person or creature who had raised a complaint against Brunski received their pound of flesh – literally. And when he’d completed that task, when he felt that his grievances had been suitably addressed, he had the audacity to call the disposal team from the Programme to come and remove what was left of Brunski.”

“I don’t – “

“Brunski was still alive, Stiles. His eyes had been sewn shut for all of the people who were blind to what he did; his tongue had been removed because of the lies he told; his wounds had been dressed so that he wouldn’t die of them, but he was suffering from exposure, various infections, covered in sores. Peter made sure that Brunski paid for every slight, every implied insult.”

Stunned and nauseated, Stiles couldn’t think of anything to say. 

“And do you know how we know all of these details?” Stiles shook his head. “Because Peter prepared a report, using the Programme’s template, listing every single thing that he had done. He got independent corroboration on every accusation, evidence to show that if he couldn’t prove what had been done to him while he was in a coma, he could prove a lot of the other stuff. It was one of the best ‘Witness’ reports we’ve ever seen – in fact, it’s used now as an example of how to sanction a Handling - obviously heavily sanitised. So, you see, when I try to warn you about what you’re getting yourself into, I’m not being a busy-body, I’m not catastrophising, I am basing it on cold, hard fact.”

“Why was Peter allowed to remain in the programme?”

“Because Valack finds him completely and utterly fascinating and thinks he has him on a leash. And because he is the best Handler that we have. For that, the people in charge are prepared to forgive him for a lot.” Lydia’s hand was visibly shaking as she took another drink. “Can you see now why I don’t think you have any idea what you have got yourself involved in?”

“I can, yes,” Stiles accepted. “But, Lydia – if Brunski had been dealt with properly, if people had listened – “

“Do you know what he did to Deaton?”

“What I’m trying to tell you is that I don’t care! I’ve heard you – I’ve listened to what you’ve said and believe me, I’m probably going to be visualising a huge chunk of it for some time to come! But you need to listen to me now – because I’m only going to say this once.” He gave her a hard stare, making sure she was listening and taking him seriously. “I am exactly where I want to be – exactly where I _need_ to be. In the short time I have known Peter, I have learned more about myself, felt more like myself, than I have since my father died. And nothing you can say is going to change that. Are we clear?”

“Stiles – “

“No. I paid you the courtesy of listening – you need to repay the favour.” Draining his cup, Stiles began to gather his possessions together. “Peter would like to claim his nephew’s body and arrange for a suitable funeral. I trust you can arrange for that to happen?”

“Yes, of course,” Lydia replied stiffly, and for a moment Stiles regretted how he had spoken to her. 

“Thank you. And thank you for telling me about Brunski – I am fully aware of what a breach in protocol it was and that you were trying to be a friend. I appreciate it.” Standing up, he threw his messenger bag over his shoulder. “Get in touch when you have another case – I should let you know that Peter and I are working on Derek’s case. I know Professor Valack might think that it represents a conflict of interest, but it’s going to happen whether you guys agree or not. It would make the most sense to give us access to appropriate resources rather than fight us on this.”

“I will make sure you have the information you require,” Lydia said calmly. “Stiles – “

“Did you know, it’s possible to fool the tests?”

“What?”

“The tests they make you take upon entry to the Programme, the ones that decide who’s sane, who’s a psychopath, who’s a ‘good’ person.”

“I know that potentially – Stiles, are you saying – “

“If it reassures you even slightly, Lydia, just consider that it takes a psycho to understand a psycho. I’ll catch up with you later.” With a smile, Stiles turned and left her office, aware of her eyes on his back the whole time.

* * *

”God, that was so cold!” Kate shivered dramatically, aware of Liam and Scott staring at her as she stood in just her underwear at the side of the lake. 

“OH! You can have my – “ Before Liam could finish what he was saying, Kate allowed the change to come over her, fangs dropping in her mouth, the prickling sensation of her skin changing texture as she raked her claws across his neck. She cursed when he lurched backwards and it stopped it from being a killing blow, turning to face Scott who was staring at her in shock.

“Look at those pretty brown eyes!! You would be far better suited to being Bambi than the big, bad wolf wouldn’t you?” In response, Scott ran at her, changing as he came, roaring in challenge.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS:
> 
> * Creepy Kate Argent with two potentially underaged boys - Scott and Liam are still in school and she's mid-to-late twenties  
> * Graphic descriptions of violence and torture - basically, what Peter did to Brunski  
> * Canon levels of violence in terms of combat  
> * Accusations of abuse of power by Brunski, including drugging and mishandling patients


	10. La Loba

There wasn’t even time to send Stiles a text – Peter changed to his wolf form and ran as fast as he could. There should have been no one within the Preserve, but he could just _feel_ the unrest – something wasn’t right. 

He followed his instincts, the sound of a fight reaching his ears near to the lake. As he broke into the clearing, he took in what was happening. He recognised McCall, taking in the damage the young werewolf had sustained from fighting – **HER**! He knew this was the La Loba that the Calaveras had chased into his territory, that she was the one who had killed his nephew, stolen his kill. A groan to the side showed him one of the betas Satomi had sent to help him get to Araya – he was on the ground, bleeding out by the looks of things, his face pale in the moonlight. 

McCall was doing his best but he was completely outmatched – this was nothing like the training fights Satomi must have her pack doing – the were-jaguar fought dirty and nasty, swiping long, vicious claws across his face, kicking him when he fell to the ground, stomping down and breaking ribs. She was _toying_ with him, enjoying the pain she was inflicting, relishing his terror and an over-riding sense of despair coming from the defeated boy. 

Peter raced across the corpse, diving for her throat whilst she was distracted by McCall, not quite making his target but biting into her nevertheless. The taste of blood and flesh aroused his predatory instincts and he herded her backwards, snapping at her legs in an attempt to hamstring her, avoiding her now clumsy blows easily. She was good but he was better.

An arrow came from nowhere, catching him in the flank, and he whimpered as he reared backwards, turning towards the new danger. He recognised Mattias Calaveras and could see that he had brought three other hunters with him, and he inwardly cursed that the sanction had not included the entire family. If he had been allowed to wipe them all out, this would not be happening.

The were-jaguar took advantage of his injury and distraction, sweeping up her boots and running away. Peter turned on the hunters, raging at them costing him his prey. They were going after the were-jaguar, no longer interested in him, and he took one of them down as they tried to sprint past him. He ripped out his throat with ease, pissed when he looked up to see that the others were long gone in pursuit of her. 

Turning, he went to McCall who was lying panting on the ground. The boy was seriously hurt and Peter morphed to his human form, looking down at him on the ground. 

“Cell phone?” he asked brusquely, leaning down to go through the boy’s pants. They were damp, which made Peter think that they had been swimming in the lake. Stupid pups – invading someone else’s territory for something so plebeian. He used McCall’s fingerprint to unlock the cell, then found Stiles’ contact number. “Stiles – I’m in the Preserve with your puppy. He got into a fight with the jaguar. I don’t think he’s going to make it.”

“What the hell? Gimme the coordinates – I’ll be there as soon as I can!” Stiles replied and Peter admired his quick-witted response. Anyone else might have asked superfluous questions, but not his little-Witness. Straight to the point. 

Walking over to the other beta – Liam, that was it – Peter could see that he had already died from his injuries. He would have to contact Satomi – she would not be pleased. Not that it was any of Peter’s business – they were less than nothing to him. The only reason he hadn’t just left McCall was that Stiles had an attachment and would no doubt like to be there when he died.

* * *

”Jesus Christ, what the fuck happened to you?” Stiles pushed his way into the clearing, taking in everything as quickly as he could. Liam was dead, his unseeing eyes staring up at the moon. Peter was sat next to Scott, nursing a wound on his flank.

“Calaveras came upon me fighting the were-jaguar. They obviously want her for themselves – took me out with a shot, then chased her that-aways,” Peter replied succinctly.

“And these two?”

“It looks like they came for a midnight swim and ended up with some company. I truly cannot believe that Satomi has not taught her betas not to trust every pretty woman they come across. It looks like they swam with her, then she attacked them when they were tired and unaware.” He gestured towards Scott. “I don’t think he’s going to make it but he might surprise us – he’s held on this long.”

“God, Scott, you complete and utter dumbass! How many times have I told you to stop following people blindly into stupid adventures?” Stiles knelt next to his friend, taking in his shallow breathing, the pallor of his skin, the pain in his eyes. He turned to Peter and could see that the wound was healing. “Mountain ash?”

“I relieved one of them of his weapon and used it appropriately. I’m fine – although I could use a shower,” Peter replied. “Where did you park your Jeep? You might want to get him to a hospital – they might be able to save him.”

“You and I both know he’s not going to make it,” Stiles replied, looking back at Scott. A part of him mourned the loss and the waste of such a young life – Scott had been through so much. Another life to add to the list that La Loba had taken from him. Maybe he wasn’t a complete psychopath if he could feel a little regret. “Did you call Satomi?”

“I did. I said we would let her know where to pick up that one’s body,” Peter said, head cocked to one side as he observed Stiles. “I thought you would be more bothered about your friend. Is there something about yourself that you’re not telling me, my little-Witness?”

“What, like that we share a few more personality traits than you might originally have expected?” Stiles replied, gathering Scott into his arms and getting to his feet. “You would have figured it out sooner or later.”

“How did you fool the tests?” Peter asked, rising and following Stiles as he left the clearing. 

“Oh please! You could have fooled them easily and you know it – you just didn’t care to,” Stiles said, moving as quickly as he could with the weight of Scott’s limp body. “Can you grab the keys from my pocket?”

“Gladly,” Peter replied, smirking as he moved closer to Stiles and slid his hand into the pocket at the front of his jeans. 

“Now is not the time,” Stiles said, cocking his hip slightly to make it easier for Peter to get the keys out. 

“But you look and smell so delicious – out here, in my territory, all pissed off and dangerous,” Peter said smoothly, even as he moved ahead and unlocked the Jeep. He helped Stiles wrangle Scott’s body into the back of the vehicle before climbing into the passenger seat. 

“The first time we fuck is not going to be in the middle of the night in a dark-ass forest, with hunters and some rogue bitch out there,” Stiles said, getting into the driver’s seat and starting the Jeep. “Let’s get him to the hospital – if he makes it, he can help Lydia in getting this as a sanctioned hit. And maybe the Calaveras as well – I get the feeling if they had left well enough alone, La Loba would no longer be a problem.”

* * *

Theo woke up to Lydia’s piercing scream, rolling out of the bed and checking the room automatically. Realising that whatever it was, it wasn’t happening here. He pulled on some sweatpants and headed towards the kitchen, knowing that Lydia would need a hot drink once she awoke from whatever vision she was dealing with. Then it was a matter of whether he needed to follow her to the actual death, or they waited for official confirmation. He rubbed his eyes tiredly as he watched the kettle boil, making her a cup of tea on auto-pilot. The feel of her arms around him from behind made him turn, and he embraced her, rubbing his cheek over her rumpled hair.

“That didn’t sound too bad,” he said, his voice a quiet rumble as he turned and finished making the cup of tea. 

“Not someone I know – connected though,” she replied, gratefully accepting the small cup. He followed as she went back to their bedroom, climbing gracefully into bed. 

“Connected how?”

“Hale, I think,” she said, slowly waking up properly. 

“An unsanctioned handling?” Theo asked in surprise but she shook her head. 

“No – just, death in his vicinity,” she said. “I need to alert Valack though.” 

“I’ll grab your laptop,” he said, turning and heading towards the living room. 

“I’ll be out in a minute – I need to get dressed,” she replied and he nodded. Whilst she was getting dressed, he got her laptop out of her bag and set it up in the bedroom. Despite their three year strong relationship, he didn’t have her password but he could hardly blame her – she was the backbone of the Programme and the laptop contained seriously sensitive material. It didn’t stop him from being curious though. 

When she came through, dressed casually in leggings and a huge sweater, her red-gold hair up in a messy bun, he kissed her before joining her on the sofa. 

“So what exactly would Hale have to do in order to get a termination order?”

“Theo – not this again!” she replied, but he persisted. 

“No, seriously. The guy has got away with more in the time I’ve been with the Programme than any other Handler out there. Why is he so bullet-proof?”

“Honey – I have grown quiet attached to you in the time we’ve been together – “

“Thanks!” he replied sarcastically.

“But you and I both know, the only reason you won’t let this particular subject lie is because you want to go up against Peter. I know you’re a badass chimera, Theo – believe me, we value everything you bring to the programme,” she said, smiling at him. “And I personally find you _extremely_ satisfying to keep around!”

“That sounds a bit better,” he admitted. “I sense a but.”

“Peter would swat you like a fly and barely notice,” Lydia stated firmly. “He’s a stone-cold killer who considers humans as insignificant irritants on a good day. If we put a sanction out on him, if we tried to take him out – it might well take more firepower than the Programme actually has.”

“ _Nobody_ is that much of a bad-ass,” Theo protested.

“But Peter has the brains to back up his brawns, is always one step ahead of everyone else – at least – and has no morals or feelings to hold him back.” Lydia turned to look Theo in the eye.”He broke Deaton’s leg in five places – do you know why?”

“I’ve heard the rumours,” Theo admitted. 

“They had a disagreement about a handling – a little disagreement at that. Peter wasn’t even that annoyed at Deaton – he was just pissed that he didn’t heed the warning he was given.” Lydia frowned. “And he did warn him, which is very unlike Peter to be fair. He was in his court-room and told Deaton that he needed some space to work something out. Told him quite clearly not to take a step into the court-room until Peter told him it was okay. Deaton decided not to take Peter literally – walked into the room just to pick up some paperwork. Before he had got more than one foot inside the door, Peter took him down and snapped his leg like it was a twig. Then did it four more times for emphasis and to make his point.”

“Jesus Christ!”

“Exactly! And I actually think Peter thinks Deaton is okay – he just didn’t want him in his space at that point in time,” Lydia continued.

“And you guys let him get away with that?” Theo asked, shocked at the level tone and lack of anger in Lydia’s voice.

“He did warn him, Theo,” she said, patting his cheek. “Now, let me find out what the hell is going on and check in with Valack.”

* * *


	11. Plans within plans..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if this needs a warning: fighting as foreplay, Peter's idea of dirty talk could be considered a little gruesome!

Lydia watched Peter and Stiles together, silently observing their dynamic. It was fascinating to see the difference between this Peter and the one from before. With Brunski and Deaton, Peter had generally sat back with a silent sneer of contempt on his face, lip curled as they discussed the case at hand. He rarely took part in the conversations, allowing his previous Witnesses the illusion of being in control whilst ensuring that Lydia was aware that he had zero intention of following their edicts. It had been a bit like watching a tiger lazily contemplate its prey before swatting them with a giant paw. 

With Stiles, Peter paid rapt attention, listening intently and nodding his agreement as Stiles laid out his plan. There was a sense of pride – as if he had had a hand in the person that Stiles was – or perhaps, the pride of a predator in a worthy mate. 

“What makes you think that’s where she’s hiding?” Valack asked, gesturing to the area on the map that Stiles had highlighted.

“Because if I was hiding from people who had captured me, tortured me and wanted to take me back to hell, that’s where I’d hide,” Stiles replied, a glance at Peter making it plain that he held the Programme in much the same regard as the hunters. What the hunters had done to Kate was uncomfortably close to what Peter had endured. 

“It makes no sense – she should have left the area,” Valack protested, tapping his mouth. “I really think she’s not going to be our issue.”

“With respect, sir, this is her territory – she may have been human when it was her home, but she’s viewing things differently now. That’s why she took out Derek Hale – and why she’s gunning for Peter. One of the reasons anyway.”

“Explain.”

“She removed Derek he’s the logical heir apparent to the Hale Alpha spark if something happens to Laura Hale. She’s challenged Peter because he’s the next capable Hale,” Stiles explained. “She’ll leave Laura for last because she won’t want to have to fight someone with the full Hale power at their fingertips.”

“Well, that’s not likely to happen – Laura remains in a vegetative state but she is alive, and therefore remains the Alpha,” Valack said, missing the look between Peter and Stiles. For a moment, Lydia was horrified at the idea that came into her head – would the two of them go so far as to kill Laura to give Peter the Alpha power? And if they did, was there anything that could be done about it? “I can arrange for higher security around Laura but she is perfectly safe within the facility at Eichen House,” Valack continued confidently. 

“Do you perhaps think it might be a good idea to move her? Simply because Eichen is well known and we wouldn’t want to disturb any of the other patients?” Lydia interjected.

“Do you _really_ think that’s necessary, Martin?” Valack asked, his tone impatient. 

“Sir – it wouldn’t be the first time the hospital has been breeched. And none of us want a reoccurrence of the nogitsune incident,” Lydia replied, biting back harsh words at the lack of respect from the Professor.

“Very well – if you think it needs to be done, you can handle that.” Valack turned to Peter and Stiles. “Do you think you could possibly handle this La Loba thing as well as the Calaveras or do I need to get another team to assist you?”

Lydia could see that Stiles was about to bite back when Peter interrupted him smoothly.

“Another team would be most appreciated, Professor. We wouldn’t want to fail you a second time,” he said, a hand on Stiles’ arm to hold him back. What was Peter up to? There was no way in hell he considered this his failure – he had to be plotting something.

“I’ll get Lahey to contact you, Stilinski – he and Whittemore are quite the exemplary team and could show you and Hale a thing or two. Or perhaps Raeken might be the best man for the job,” Valack said, folding his arms. “Can I consider this dealt with or do I need to intervene any further?”

“That should be fine, Professor,” Lydia said, sliding her tablet across the desk so that Valack could thumb-print his agreement to the plans. There was no way he was going to be able to disavow knowledge of this if things went wrong.

* * *

”Why did you stop me? That guy needs his ass handed to him for the things he was implying!” Stiles vented to Peter as they left the facility.

“Because we don’t need him upset – we have what we want from him, carte blanche to handle not only La Loba but also the Calaveras. Why rock the boat, little-Witness?” Peter put his arm around Stiles’ shoulder, steering him towards the Ford Colby. “You’re slipping – I’m surprised you’ve managed to remain undetected for all of this time. How on earth did you handle your inclinations all of this time?”

Stiles sighed, leaning into Peter’s embrace and following his guidance towards the car. 

“I worked out – a lot – got my aggressions out by a little MMA fighting. I also learned Krav Maga. Basically, exhaustion,” Stiles admitted, getting into the car and doing up his seat belt. 

“Well maybe I can find another use for those aggressions of yours,” Peter said, making himself comfortable in the driver’s seat and starting the engine. “Let me show you my work-out space.”

The trip to the private space where Peter did his workouts was completed in silence, Stiles staring unseeing out of the car the whole time. Peter didn’t like that – he wanted Stiles’ attention on him, not on something external. He would have to ensure that their training session made that clear.

“I don’t have work-out gear,” Stiles said as he followed Peter into the warehouse. The entire floor was laid out with mats for safety, one small corner of the room reserved for punching bags, skipping ropes and a few small weights, as well as a medical kit.

“You won’t need it,” Peter said, rushing Stiles and sending him flying to the floor. “Tsk tsk, I’m a little disappointed. I thought given the training you’ve received, you’d be more prepared than that,” he mocked, kicking off his shoes and throwing his jacket to the ground. 

“I didn’t expect you to feel the need to cheat in order to win,” Stiles said, jumping lithely to his feet and looking more relaxed than he had since the meeting with Valack and Lydia had started. Whilst Peter was admiring his body, Stiles attacked with a flying dropkick, knocking the wind out of Peter and sending him crashing to the ground. He landed heavily on top of Peter, wrenching his arm around his back and pulling his head back with his other arm so that he was arched uncomfortably. “Was this more like what you had in mind?” Stiles asked, slightly out of breath.

“I’ll admit, the position holds its’ attractions, but initially I was imagining something more like this.” Using werewolf strength, Peter yanked Stiles’ arm down, stopping just shy of breaking it as he flipped their positions until Stiles lay beneath him on the mat, his arms tucked up behind his back his legs spread to allow Peter to lie between them. “Ah yes, I think this was much more where I imagined things would begin.”

Holding Stiles’ arms prisoner with one arm, Peter sliced through the thick fabric of his jeans with a claw, a thin line of blood rising to the surface on the pale skin of Stiles’ ass. Leaning down, Peter licked his way up the stripe of blood, closing his eyes and sighing in pleasure. His moment of inattention cost him, Stiles’ elbow somehow smashing him in the face as the man pushed his way over, wrapping one long leg around Peter’s neck. In a complicated move, Stiles had Peter’s arm pulled out at an angle, his knee joint behind Peter’s neck, holding him down onto the mat.

“Naughty, naughty – aren’t we meant to negotiate before you spill blood?” Stiles huffed.

“But now both of your arms are occupied keeping me in place, and your leg on my neck might be an interesting position, but alas I am not limber enough to reach your groin from here,” Peter stated mournfully, testing Stiles’ hold. 

“Hadn’t actually thought of that – never used fighting as actual foreplay before,” Stiles admitted before releasing Peter and scrambling to his feet quickly, stepping back so that he wasn’t an easy target. He gripped his jeans at the waist, before giving Peter a heavy look. “You couldn’t spare the clothing?”

Stiles moved to the side of the training room, shucking his boots and jeans, as well as his jacket so that he was just in a sweater and boxers. 

“I hope you’ve got lube on you somewhere, old man, cos whoever’s get a hold for the count of three first gets to top and I don’t plan to take it easy on you!”

“My kind of odds,” Peter smirked, diving across the room and engaging Stiles full tilt, remaining in his human form to even the odds but not holding back any more than that.

* * *

”I think that perhaps Mr Hale has outlived his usefulness,” Valack stated, leaning back in his chair.

“About fucking time!” Theo responded, rubbing his hands together. 

“Don’t get over-eager,” Valack said. “I need him to clean up this mess first. He’s the best creature to handle both the were-jaguar and the Calaveras together. It’s a shame, actually – I would have liked to get my hands on a former hunter turned creature.”

“You want me to try to keep her alive?”

“No – she’s proven to be far more trouble than any research I do on her would be worth,” Valack finally said. “Assist Stilinski and Hale in removing her from the field, then handle Hale.”

“Not Stilinski?”

“No – no, I want him alive. I have a feeling that our Mr Stilinski has been hiding a few tendencies from us and would like to take him to Eichen House and examine him more closely.” Valack smiled at Theo. “You might get your own Handler after all.”

“Any Lydia? Does she know about this?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Contrary to Ms Martin’s delusions, **I** run this programme, not her. If she objects too strenuously, I will take her into the unit at Eichen House and use her as a warning system. Her screams are invaluable but she doesn’t need to have full use of her mental faculties in order to scream.” Theo shifted slightly in his seat at Valack’s words. “Problem? Don’t tell me that you fell in love with her? Really, Theo? The Dread Doctors assured me that you wouldn’t fall into such a trap.”

“Yes, I love her but I believe in the Programme more. I’ll get you Stilinski and if Lydia objects – I’ll handle her too,” Theo stated firmly.

“Excellent. I want this sorted out as soon as possible,” Valack said. “Really, Stilinski has only been here such a short time to create such a mess.”

“To be fair, Professor, La Loba and the Calaveras were an issue before Stilinski arrived,” Theo said. 

“Indeed.” Valack nodded, then gave Theo a stern look. “Don’t fuck this up. That’ll be all.”

Theo got to his feet and left the room, already planning what he would need to follow Valack’s orders. He would prefer it if he could keep Lydia, but if he had to sacrifice his relationship with her then so be it.

* * *

Stiles groaned as Peter bottomed out, the hand holding his head back at a sharp angle making it harder to breathe as he was driven down onto the mat by the force of Peter’s entry.

“Jesus, you are delicious!” Peter moaned, lying down on top of Stiles’ body and licking at his ear. “Every inch of you covered in sweat, the strength of your body beneath mine – you are a worthy mate, Stiles.”

“Are you just gonna talk or are you gonna fuck me?” Stiles gasped out, crying out when Peter withdrew and thrust back inside rapidly at his words, the heavy driving rhythm forcing grunts out of him. 

“Mouthy little shit, aren’t you?” 

“Gonna shut me up?” Stiles managed to gasp out, clutching uselessly at the mat whilst pushing back with his hips.

“Oh, hell no – I want to hear it all. I want your dirty little fantasies, your wants and desires, your kinks that have never been uttered – I want to ruin you for anyone but me,” Peter continued. “I want your ass to conform to the shape of my cock so that you **know** that you belong to me and only me.”

“Fuck, Peter – “

“But more than anything, my little-Witness, I want to be there for your first and all of your future kills – bathe in the blood of our enemies together and fuck on their bodies!”

* * *


	12. Betrayal

”Theo Raeken.” Theo held out his hand, surprised by the strength of Stilinski’s grip. 

“Stiles Stilinski,” the man replied, nodding towards the werewolf brooding just behind him. “This is Peter Hale.”

“I know a lot of your work, sir,“ Theo said, bowing his head respectfully.

“I cannot say the same,” Hale replied, a sneer on his face. “Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, can we get this done? The Calaveras have made enough noise close to where we surmised that we may be able to handle two birds with one stone.”

“How many do you estimate?” Theo asked, following the two men to Stilinski’s beaten up Jeep. He climbed into the back, aware of the sidelong look Hale gave him. He obviously didn’t like having someone unknown at his back but didn’t say anything. 

“The Calaveras have only brought a small part of the clan to Beacon Hills. Mattias has two left, unless La Loba killed any of them the other night,” Stiles replied, driving off smoothly. 

“Did you hear anything about your young friend? I understand he was badly injured?” Theo asked, seeing the slight clench of Stilinski’s knuckles on the steering wheel. 

“He didn’t make it,” Stiles replied. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Theo said.

“Thanks. Satomi has agreed that we can avenge Scott and Liam – although if we fail, she **will** enter Beacon Hills if need be,” the man stated. “Unless you want a supernatural war in Beacon Hills, we better make sure we get rid of La Loba tonight.”

“I’m on board with that,” Theo agreed.

“What are you?” Hale asked and Theo smiled. “You’re not a pure werewolf.”

“No, sir – I’m part wolf, part coyote. As well as a few other things,” Theo admitted, impressed despite himself that Hale was able to tell. 

“Interesting,” Peter replied, looking at Theo over his shoulder. “A chimera – accident or intentional I wonder?”

“Oh completely intentional. Until Professor Valack and the Doctors helped me, I was suffering from an incurable disease – their work has saved my life,” Theo admitted.

“I would imagine that would go a long way to buying loyalty,” Hale said before facing forwards. “Park by the edge of the beginning of the warehouse district – if she has any sense, she’ll try to lead them to the Preserve.”

Considering himself dismissed, Theo sat back and waited, happy to observe Hale and Stilinski. They didn’t speak much, but there was something more to their relationship than one of Witness and Handler. 

Stiles had barely pulled the Jeep over near the back of a Warehouse before the gunshots could be heard. The three of them climbed out of the vehicle, Theo listening intently to try to figure out where the shots were coming from. 

“They’re coming from the North – you go that way,” Peter gestured to Theo, “Stiles, stay with the Jeep – we may need you to bring it to us.”

Stilinski grabbed Hale by the back of the neck, yanking him into a kiss before muttering against his lips.

“Don’t get dead.”

“I’ll do my best, sweetheart,” Hale said with a toothy grin before turning and running off towards the continuing gunshots. Stilinski turned to where Theo was watching him.

“If something happens to him because you’re hanging back or doing anything duplicitous, you’re gonna need more than a Dread Doctor to bring you back to life. Clear?”

“I am **so** looking forward to working with you,” Theo replied before turning and heading in the direction Peter had instructed.

* * *

The first hunter failed to protect his flank and Peter clawed through his throat in a matter of seconds. He dragged the body to the side, not wanting it to act as any kind of warning if any other hunters came upon it. He cocked his head, listening for the sounds of fighting, then followed them into a warehouse. From his position in the shadows, he watched as Raeken took out a hunter – he didn’t like how he played with his prey as if they had time for such shenanigans. Still, that was one less for him to deal with. Moving around the perimeter, Peter could see where Mattias Calaveras had La Loba trapped in a small area of the warehouse. She was using the boxes stacked there as camouflage and was tending to a wound in her side. In her human form, she looked pathetic, although he could see what Derek might have seen in her when she was in her prime. Long, dirty blonde hair cascaded down her back, and if not shadowed with pain, her blue eyes could be considered striking. She looked thin, almost gaunt, the time spent running from the hunters had not been kind to her. She looked worn down and almost done in – he would be doing her a kindness putting her out of her misery. 

“La Loba! Come on – it’s time to stop running and come home!” Mattias shouted, his tone taunting. “We have a bigger cage for you and you’ll have free reign in the fighting circle to kill to your heart’s delight!”

“Fuck off!” she replied wearily.

“Ah, now is that any way to speak to your favourite Calaveras son? I know you enjoyed our time together,” Mattias continued, moving quietly around the edge of the boxes she was hiding behind. “My brothers and I – we spoke often of you. We enjoyed our time with you – an animal in the streets and between the sheets, huh?” 

Peter sneered at the further evidence of the level the hunters had stooped to. Rape was not something weres did – the stench of their victims fear and disgust would have been overwhelming. Perhaps he shouldn’t simply wipe out the members of the family that had come to Beacon Hills – perhaps he and Stiles should travel to Mexico. 

Peter spotted Theo crouched on a large stack of boxes above Mattias and he pointed to the hunter and swiped his hand over his throat. Theo nodded his understanding and Peter moved swiftly into position. As Theo landed on Mattias, Peter swept the boxes aside and faced La Loba.

“Little Ms Argent – you’re not looking so good,” he said, facing the woman who had been instrumental in the death of his Pack. 

“Hale – “ she whispered, struggling to her feet and staring at him. “I thought – “

“Did you think they had finished me off the other night? They were far too interested in recapturing you – perhaps they missed their little hunter bed-warmer?” he asked, cataloguing her movements as she assessed her ability to escape. “I would imagine it wouldn’t be too difficult a thing for you to do – after all, they merely did to you what you did to my nephew.”

“I never raped Derek!” she spat at him, morphing to her jaguar form. The change was slow, yet another sign that she was at the end of her tether. “Everything we did together was consensual!”

“Ah – so it was consensual when you ripped out his throat?” Peter asked, moving forward slowly. An injured animal was an animal at its most primal, most dangerous. He would not underestimate her. 

“That was – I just wanted him to _help_ me!” she cried, tears glinting in her eyes. Peter could almost believe that _she_ believed what she was saying, but no matter. For what she had done to his family, the only acceptable penalty was death. “He acted like he was better than me – like he didn’t have as big a role to play in things as I did!! I didn’t have to try to get that information out of him – poor little prince Derek, the ignored Hale – he was as eager to fuck me as he was to tell me all of your dirty animal secrets!”

“Who’s the animal now?” Peter said, feinting to the left, then diving at her from the right. She stumbled into his arms, terror emanating from every pore as she looked into his merciless eyes. “Let me do for you what your family has done for many others!” It was the work of a moment to swipe his claws across her throat, pulling her head back to ensure that her life’s blood pumped away faster. She gurgled, hands clutching at his, and he watched with satisfaction as she died, finally paying for what she had done. 

Peter dropped her to the ground, wiping the blood from his hands on his shirt, before turning at the sound of someone behind him. 

“All done?” he asked Theo, smiling. 

“Yeah – he was fun,” Theo responded, stepping closer to Peter, one arm behind his back. “Of course, the job’s not quite finished.”

“Really? What could possibly remain to be done? The clean up crews are more than capable of handling the bodies but if you wish to supervise – “

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what’s coming, Hale,” Theo protested, “You must have realised as soon as Valack sent his best man to work with you.” Theo began to circle Peter, deftly avoiding Kate’s body.

“ **You’re** his best man? I must say, I’m a little disappointed,” Peter replied, keeping Theo at a distance. “I always thought when the time came, Valack would know it would take more than one person to take me down.”

“You’re good, Hale, but you’re not that good. You let her get away the other night – and the Calaveras. That doesn’t really sound like the best of the best now does it?” From behind his back, Theo pulled out a gun. 

“How plebeian!” Peter said. “Or is this to provide plausible deniability for Ms Martin? Somehow, I don’t think that she’s in on whatever plans you have with Professor Valack.”

“You were shot by a hunter – such a shame. However, I managed to handle both La Loba and the remaining hunters,” Theo said, smirking. “And of course, once you’re out of the way, it would appear that your Stiles is going to be changing sides. Who knew you could be both a Witness _and_ a Handler!”

At the thought of Stiles being subjected to the experiments and tests Valack conducted in Eichen House, Peter felt the slim hold on his temper begin to slip.

“I’d be very careful what I’d say next if I was you,” he warned a growl in his chest.

“He looks like he’d be quite the delicious ride once he’s suitably broken in,” Theo continued. “All of that pale skin – do the moles go all over? No matter – I’ll find out for myself.”

“Not in this lifetime,” Stiles said from behind Theo, jabbing him in the neck with a needle before yanking the gun out of his hand and stepping away.

“What – “

“Did you _really_ think we were that stupid?” Stiles said, moving to Peter’s side. “You and Valack are not as clever as you might think.”

Theo fell to his knees, clutching at his neck. 

“What – did – you – do?”

“Kanima venom is almost never lethal unless you get too heavy a dose,” Stiles said, taking Peter’s hand. “And poor, silly me must have overestimated how much it would take. Of course, as you’re not a Witness yet, you wouldn’t know that we are given a small amount of kanima venom with which to sedate our Handlers if they get out of hand.” Stiles turned to Peter. “Put a few of those vials together, and suddenly it’s not just a sedative, its almost certain death. I hear the pain is excruciating. It goes from completely numb to agony in a matter of seconds, burning its way through the body until all of the internal organs have disintegrated.”

“That sounds quite fascinating,” Peter replied, tugging Stiles into his arms. “Would you like to watch or should we simply call the disposal team?”

“I would say let’s go, but I’d like to be sure that Mr Raeken here succumbs fully – wouldn’t want to leave anything for the Dread Doctors to resurrect,” Stiles replied, settling into Peter’s arms and resting his head on his chest. “Is it bad that I have a bad case of the munchies? Who knew murder could make you hungry.”

* * *


	13. A Honeymoon Treat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was a relatively quick (if intense) one! I hope you enjoyed this little slice of Psycho Stiles and Peter - I may revisit the verse to tell the tale of Ennis, but more than likely I'll just use the idea of our lovely pair being psychopaths again - I do enjoy it when they are a little unhinged!
> 
> Thank you, as always, for the lovely comments and kudos that cheered me on, and I believe I'm returning to 50 Shades of Hale and The Man Who Ran with Wolves next!
> 
> Skargasm  
> x

”So what were you going to do if Valack _didn’t_ make a move on you?” Stiles asked, stepping aside so that Peter could lock the door to the villa. 

“He had to die regardless – I merely wanted to ensure that someone capable of understanding the supernatural perspective would be available to take his place,” Peter replied, throwing his arm around Stiles’ shoulders and guiding him down the cobblestone street. 

“I still think that it was a risky move, going off with Theo alone. What if I hadn’t made it in time?”

Peter laughed as if that had never even crossed his mind. 

“What, and miss your chance for your first kill with me as your Witness? I don’t think so, Stiles,” he nuzzled his nose into the side of Stiles’ face, almost knocking off his sunglasses. 

“Behave you – we’re meant to be attempting to be discreet,” Stiles said, even as he tilted his head further to give Peter more access. “So, what did Lydia have to say when you spoke to her?”

“Not a lot. Laura remains in the same condition, so Beacon Hills is at least still nominally protected by an Alpha; the takeover of the Programme ran smoothly and it would appear that the Board has agreed that Eichen House may not be the best place to train the Handlers,” Peter replied. “And of course, she sent through the file we requested.”

“You know we can’t keep relying on being in her good graces. One day, she – or the Board – may decide that they want us handled,” Stiles said, stopping to look into a store window. 

“Good luck to them if they ever make that decision,” Peter said, grimacing slightly. It was a sore point that they were not _completely_ free. He had agreed that they would do occasional work for the Programme in exchange for their freedom, but it still felt like a leash. It chafed slightly, but looking at Stiles’ simple enjoyment in the act of window shopping made Peter realise that he was prepared to maintain the compromise. 

Neither of them was fitted with trackers – Lydia readily admitted that she knew Peter had the capabilities to remove or prevent them from working – so the only regular contact requested was to ensure that the Powers that Be could claim that Peter and Stiles were working for them on a sub-contractor basis if asked. Not that they were liable to leave any clues behind – when they handled something together, it was done swiftly, quietly and efficiently. 

The Calaveras clan were no more, and that had set the cat amongst the pigeons. There was currently much infighting amongst various hunter families trying to claim the territory, which in turn made things that little bit safer for the supernaturals in the vicinity. It had been fun completing that assignment with Stiles – he knew quite a lot about making bombs, something that Peter had never bothered with before. It had proven efficient in getting the majority of the Calaveras out of their home and into the welcoming claws of Peter. 

This assignment, however, was more personal. 

Lydia had been hesitant when Peter had made it plain that he considered this as part of the deal they had made – she got complete control of the Programme, he got to finish a job he had started and been interrupted in. Stiles’ records went astray – an easy task as no-one actually wanted to admit that a psychopath had made his way through the entire Witness Training Programme and graduated. Personally, Peter thought it was ridiculous – Stiles was more than able to act as both Witness and Handler. 

Now that the death of his father had been avenged, his need for violence and blood was more than sated by handling cases as requested. Peter was still waiting to hear the story about what had happened to the alpha that bit Scott – he had the feeling it would be quite the delicious tale – but he was happy to wait. Stiles still had a few reservations about sharing his kills before they got together and Peter was more than happy to claim Theo as Stiles’ first official kill. After all, the Programme had written it off as an official Handling. 

“Are you going to tell me why we’re here? Apart from our honeymoon,” Stiles asked, finally finished with his window shopping. “I have the file from Lydia but I haven’t opened it. I got the feeling this one was special so decided to let you fill me in on the details.”

Peter grinned. His little-Witness _did_ understand him so well. 

“Come with me, then,” he said, guiding Stiles down the street until they reached a small cafe. Once they had ordered coffee and pastries and taken a comfortable seat on the sidewalk, Peter casually looked around before spotting their prey.

“Do you remember when you told me the tale of the Argents and how you were investigating them?” he asked and Stiles nodded, taking a bite of his pastry and moaning with delight. “Continue making sounds like that and the only place we’ll be going is back to the Villa,” he said, watching as Stiles licked the flaky crumbs from his lips.

“Well, you did promise to fuck me over the side of the balcony – “ Stiles said teasingly, before sitting up straight. “Okay, I’ll behave.”

“Not too much – I am always happy for a reason to punish you!” Glancing over his shoulder, Peter continued speaking. “If you check out your 11 o’clock, you’ll see what look like a delightful couple of ladies doing a little shopping.”

Stiles discreetly checked on the position Peter had given him, sipping his coffee whilst doing so.

“The brunette and the red-head?”

“That’s them. The brunette is the daughter – a werewolf had the misfortunate to fall madly in love with her – the misguided fool forgot that Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy, **not** a romance. Suffice it to say, when she was let into the secret of his ‘condition’, her family did not take it well. Neither did she.

Her father threatened the boy; her grandfather kidnapped his friends and beat and electrocuted them as a message to leave the girl well enough alone. And when that didn’t work, when the stupid boy insisted that this was a love that was destined to be, the Mother arranged for him to be killed. During a rescue attempt, one of the hunters was bitten, and in true, lemming, hunter fashion, he committed suicide rather than turn into a wolf.” Peter continued. “Don’t look at me like that – anyone could have told them that it would take the bite of an alpha for the hunter to turn and the boy was certainly no alpha, but the hunter was determined to be noble. The brunette was heartbroken as the hunter was a dear family friend. And so began the fun that Victoria and Allison Argent got up to under the guise of protecting those who could not protect themselves…”

* * *

fin

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> For the usual suspects
> 
> Stay safe, stay well and stay kind  
> Skargasm  
> x
> 
> * * *


End file.
